42
by KNG. CAIRO
Summary: All she wanted to do was play ball and go pro, not raise a child with a certain diva on the Cheerios who's had it out for her since freshman year. Eventual Faberry, established Brittana, Frannie/OFC, and Spashley just for the hell of it. (Warning, G!P.) Slow Burn.
1. Chapter 1

**Quinn's a cocky basketball player, Rachel's an uptight cheerleader, and Dylan is their baby.**

_**Prologue**_

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><p>"Did you feed her?"<p>

"Yes."

"Did you change her?"

"_Yes._"

"Did you burp her?"

_"Yes."_

"So why won't she stop crying?!"

"I _don't_ know!"

"Ugh!" Quinn exclaimed in exasperation, trying to calm crying baby in her arms. She glanced at the clock.

_4:30_

"Well make her stop! I've got a game in thirty minutes!" She snapped, glaring at the little brunette who was busy ironing her skirt. She rolled her eyes. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

Quinn was ready to rip her hair out in frustration. The kid had been crying non-stop for the past fifteen minutes, and it was really getting on her nerves. She had to get ready for her basketball game against Carmel High and at this rate she'd be late, and Rachel was no help whatsoever. "Are you even trying to calm her down?" Rachel asked, not looking up from her task at hand.

"No, I like having a baby cry at the top of her lungs for hours on end." Quinn retorted. She plopped down on the couch with her daughter, yes her daughter, securely in her arms. Rachel ignored her response and walked over to her. She plucked her daughter, yes her daughter as well, from Quinn's arms. "I know daddy's annoying, but you have to stop crying." Rachel pleaded.

Quinn frowned. She didn't necessarily like being called daddy, even if she technically was. Just because she had the necessary parts to be one, doesn't mean she was one. She was in fact Dylan's other biological parent, but she was a girl above all else. She knew Rachel didn't mean anything by it because she only did it to annoy her, and it certainly did.

Rachel rocked her baby girl in her arms while whispering sweet things in her ear, but it did nothing to ease the baby's distress. Dylan was often a quiet baby, only crying when she was hungry or needed to be changed. Rachel didn't understand, she had both fed and changed her, but the child would not stop crying. She vaguely wondered if it was the somewhat hostile air between her and Quinn was upsetting Dylan. She and Quinn had never exactly gotten along, but they put up with each other to ensure the best possible care for their daughter.

Dylan Berry-Fabray was the result of a typical drunken get together between Quinn and Rachel at a typical high school party thrown by a typical rich teenager with too much time on their hands. Rachel was your typical uptight, bitchy, head cheerleader dating the quarterback and Quinn was your typical cocky athlete that thought she was better than anyone and everyone. The only not so typical thing between them was the fact that Quinn had gotten Rachel pregnant, and Quinn was a girl.

They vowed to never speak to each other as long as they lived, but that plan went to shit when Rachel found out she was pregnant. She wasn't so much bothered by the fact that she had cheated on her boyfriend with a girl and said girl had gotten her pregnant. She was more appalled that she, Rachel Berry, future Broadway superstar, future winner of multiple Oscars, was pregnant by Quinn Fabray at the tender age of sixteen.

Of course Quinn made her get a DNA test because she was positive Rachel was trying to ruin her career, and she was shocked when those results came out positive. Even after that she still denied it, decided to lock herself in the school gym and try to shoot herself out of her situation. But after multiple slaps in the face from the likes of her sister, Rachel, and Santana just for the hell of it had brought her to her senses.

She was having a baby, at sixteen, with Rachel Berry.

Nine months of pure hell from Rachel and juggling her basketball activities had done a number on the blonde and she was thankful when Dylan Berry-Fabray was born.

With her golden brown hair and bright hazel eyes one would have to be blind, stupid, or Finn to deny that that baby was Quinn's. She certainly had Rachel's perfect dimpled smile and wavy hair, but she did resemble Quinn more. Their families had thought the birth of their child would eventually squash the beef between them, but here they are four months later with no changes whatsoever.

Rachel glanced at Quinn, who was pulling on her basketball gear. She glanced at the clock.

_4:46_

At this rate, they'd never make it!

"Just give her to me." A voiced chirped as a beautiful blonde practically jumped down the stairs. Quinn's sister, Brittany greeted them both with a wide smile. She was also a cheerleader; in fact she was co-captain of the Cheerios. She was also dating Quinn's somewhat best friend, resident badass Santana Lopez. She wore really short jean shorts and a sweater with a picture of Bob Marley on the front, most likely Santana's. She gently plucked her niece from Rachel's hands. Almost immediately the baby opened her huge hazel eyes and stopped crying. Rachel sighed in relief as she grabbed her skirt from the ironing board and ran upstairs to get changed.

"Thank you Jesus." Quinn exclaimed.

The other blonde frowned. "No, I'm Brittany."

"Not what I meant. Rachel come on!" Quinn yelled, slinging her Nike sports bag over her shoulder. She had Dylan's bag on her other shoulder. During the game Brittany, Santana, and their older sister Francine, would take care of her. She quickly checked herself in the mirror, making sure she had on all her gear. She had pulled her honey blonde hair into a tight bun that rested at the top of her head. Her red and white McKinley Titans jersey hung loosely off her well-built frame. She had on a red arm sleeve that started on her bicep and ended just above her wrist with matching knee sleeves. Her red elite socks were pulled up to her creamy ankles and red _Air Force 1s_ adorned her small feet.

The number 42 painted on the front and back of her jersey gleamed in the dim lighting of the living room. She certainly looked like the basketball player she was, and she looked damn hot doing it. Brittany wasn't cheering tonight because she had hurt her ankle during one of their Glee performances. She was a bit bummed out, but her girlfriend was taking great care of her and she loved every bit of it.

The stairs creaked again as Rachel ran down the stairs with her hair pulled into a tight bun and her cheerios uniform crisp and ironed to perfection. She tossed her bag to Quinn who reluctantly took it.

"Let's go, time is of the essence!" Rachel snapped at her.

Quinn just rolled her eyes.

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><p><strong>Have I got your attention?<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm glad that I have sparked your interest; I do hope you continue to leave me these lovely reviews. I'm Wren by the way, pleasure to meet you all.**

_**Chapter 1. One**_

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><p>"She is the<em> cutest<em> thing _ever_!" A group of girls squealed to baby Dylan, who was staring up at them with wide eyes nestled in Quinn's arms. Quinn was looking for Francine, who was going to watch her during the game. Brittany had ditched her, intent on finding Santana so they could have some alone time before the game started. As soon as she walked in with baby Dylan, she was immediately bombarded by the group. "How old is she now?" One of the girls asked.

"She's four months." Quinn replied curtly. She was already late. The game was set to begin in about five minutes and she had yet to make it to the locker room. She hoped Francine would hurry up.

"She looks just like you!"

"Where'd the freckles come from? Neither you or Rachel have freckles." Someone pointed out, gesturing to the cute dust of freckles splattered across Dylan's nose. "Brittany has freckles and so does Frannie." Quinn replied, trying her best to hide her annoyance.

Dylan squirmed in her arms, a soft cry escaping her lips. Quinn placed a gentle kiss atop her head; she did not want her to start crying again. She held Dylan in one arm as she dug in the bag. She pulled out Dylan's binky and gently pressed it to her lips. She happily sucked on the pacifier, laying her head on Quinn's collarbone. The girls awed loudly.

"Oh god, that was so cute!"

"I bet you're like the best dad ever!"

"I wish my baby daddy did that with his son."

"She's a daddy's girl for sure!"

Quinn gritted her teeth, anger brewing deep in her chest. She absolutely hated being called dad. It was bad enough when Rachel did it, but it was even worse when other people did it. As if she could sense her mother's distress, Dylan began to cry. "Oh no." Quinn groaned as her daughter's loud cries echoed throughout the hallway.

Where the _hell_ was Frannie?!

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><p>Frannie Fabray walked slowly through the school's doors. Her cold blue eyes were filled to the brim with annoyance. Not at anyone in particular, she was just annoyed. That's just how she was though. She didn't really like people, and she especially didn't like being at loud basketball games. But she had promised her little sister she would watch her niece and she really didn't want to be stuck at home with her mother and her friends.<p>

She walked around aimlessly; she had no idea where she was going. It wasn't like she hadn't been here before. She's been here plenty of times, but she can never remember where the gym was. The cold December air nipped at her exposed arms. She wore skin tight blue skinny jeans that clung to her legs like a second skin. A red sheer blouse and matching red Toms completed her outfit. Her silky blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun atop her head, and diamond studded earrings rested in her ear lobes.

She would call Quinn and ask where the gym was, but she had forgotten her phone at her …friend's house.

She wrapped her arms around herself as she looked around for a sign or something that could direct her to the gym, but there were none around. Frannie nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a warm fabric slide onto her shoulders. It was a camouflage jacket. The scent of leather and coconut lingered on the fabric. She knew immediately who it was. Her heart skipped a beat and butterflies fluttered gently in her stomach.

The woman was tall; the top of Frannie's head barley grazed her collarbone. Her skin was a rich golden, creamy and flawless. Long, messy dark hair fell into her forest green eyes. Her full lips were pulled back in a gentle grin, the faint but still there dimples gleamed in her rosy cheeks. She wore a long sleeved brown shirt with dark ripped jeans and all white skate shoes. "Forgot where the gym was again?" Her deep southern accent coated in the sweetest honey sent slivers of warmth through Frannie's body.

Frannie, not one to have her emotions on display turned her head away. She cursed the warmth spreading across her cheeks as she pulled the jacket tighter her shoulders. "What are you doing here, Dally?" She growled.

Dallas grinned. "I always come to support Quinn. Besides, you forgot this at my house." She said, producing a black iPhone 5 from her pocket. Frannie scoffed as she snatched the phone away from the junior's grasp. The senior stuffed her phone into her back pocket. She stared into those pretty forest green eyes she had grown to care about. She tried to look intimidating, but the height difference was not in her favor. "Come on Shorty, gym's this way." Dallas said as she turned and began walking.

"Dally."

"Yea- _Oh_!" Dallas gasped as a small yet strong fist came in contact with her abdomen. She bent over, tears in the corners of her eyes. "Now _I'm_ taller." Frannie whispered, pressing her lips against Dallas's.

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><p>Rachel settled into a front split as she stretched her hamstrings. The game was set to begin in about five minutes and her squad was warming up in the hallway in front of the gym. Her hair was slicked back into the perfect pony tail, not a single strand sticking out of place.<p>

She placed her hands on her abdomen, still feeling a bit self-conscious about the tiny flab from her pregnancy. She would have to do more crunches after the game.

"Hey Rachel!"

Rachel smiled to herself as her boyfriend's voice sounded behind her. True enough; the tall boy was jogging towards her with a charming grin on his face. He was wearing his letterman and dark jeans. His smile was as bright as the KDs he wore on his feet. Rachel got to her feet, jumping into his arms and planting a kiss on his cheek. She liked the feeling of his stubble on her lips and his masculine scent relaxed her. He returned the kiss to her cheek.

"Are you staying for the game?" Rachel asked hopefully.

He shook his head. "Sorry I can't. We have practice in like fifteen minutes. I just wanted to see you before though." He said with bright eyes.

Rachel's heart fluttered in her chest. Even after everything they'd been through, the tall boy was willing to put everything behind them and continue to move forward with their relationship. She was grateful for that because she did love him, no matter how big of an idiot he might be. The quarterback placed a gentle kiss on her lips as she ran a hand through his short spiky hair. He gently placed her on the ground and placed his giant hand on her cheek. He stared into her eyes with that cute dopey smile of his. "I promise I'll make it up to you. We can go to Breadstix or something."

Rachel's smile faltered a little, he always forgot she was a vegan. "Sure, that sounds lovely." She knew he loved the food there. She'd end up getting a salad anyway. He grinned. "Awesome! I'll see you later, Rach!" He kissed her one last time before jogging off towards the football field. Rachel watched him go with a fond smile on her face.

"Ladies, get it movin'! I don't pay you to stand around!" Sue Sylvester yelled into Rachel's ear with a bullhorn. Rachel jumped at least twenty feet in the air.

"You don't pay us at all." A cheerio scoffed.

"_AND WHY SHOULD I? YOU'RE ALL A BUNCH OF MONKEYS_. Actually that's an insult to monkeys, you're all a bunch of _mindless_ _baboons_." Sue yelled. The close proximity of the bullhorn to the cheerio's face caused her fake lashes and hair to fly off of her body. She squealed and dashed back towards the locker room. "Anyone else?" Sue challenged.

They all shook their heads rapidly.

"NOW _GET IN THERE_."

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><p><em>"McKinley Are you ready!?"<em>

The announcer's voice rang out through the crowded gym. Screams erupted and the bleachers vibrated as the crowd stomped on them. Brittany, Santana, Dylan, Dallas, and Frannie sat at the top of the bleachers. Dylan was sitting on Santana's lap, playing with her hair absent-mindedly. Santana was placing gentle kisses on the toddlers face, causing her to giggle uncontrollably. Brittany looked on with pure adoration in her eyes. Dallas and Frannie were sitting incredibly close to each other. Their legs and shoulder touched with even the tiniest of movements.

Dallas had slung an arm around Frannie's shoulders, but immediately regretted it when her elbow came in contact with her ribs. Frannie chuckled quietly as she crossed her legs, but didn't move away.

The basketball games were always sold out. Well, only girls' Varsity. No one could care less about the other teams, including the football team. Rachel was probably the only cheerleader who cheered with actual enthusiasm at their games.

"Now introducing your McKinley Titans!" The announcer exclaimed.

"At the point guard position, standing at 5 feet four inches, number 42, _QUINN FABRAY_!"

The crowd went insane as Quinn jogged from the locker room, slapping her teammates hands as she came through. She was the smallest player on the court in both height and weight, but she was fearless. She wasn't the strongest but she was blindingly quick and could shoot anyone out of the gym. The announcer introduced the rest of the team and the opponents who no one cared about and the met at the center of the court for tip off. Rachel and her squad immediately began cheering.

"_Who's house?_!" They shouted to the crowd. "_Our house!_" They shouted back.

The ref tossed the ball into the air and both centers fought for the first possession. The ball sailed through the air, but untimely ended up in Quinn's hands. The crowd cheered as she jogged the ball up the court. Her defender was at least five or six inches taller than her, but Quinn didn't care. She did a quick hesitation move that rocked her defender on her heels far enough were Quinn could dart right passed her. Quinn faked like she was going in for a layup, causing the help defense to activate and tossed it to her wide open teammate in the corner. The crowd cheered as the ball sailed through the net. _3-0._

As the enemy team inbounded the ball, Quinn snuck up behind the guard and picked her pocket. She ran all the way back the three point line and shot another three. _6-0._

_This is going to be too easy._ She thought as she stole it again.

* * *

><p>The ended up winning 102-23 and Quinn wasn't even really trying. She ended with 25 points, 15 assists, 8 rebounds, and 6 steals. As the crowd began to thin out of the gym, shouting excitedly into the night Quinn walked over to her sisters and her friends. She plucked Dylan out of Frannie's arms and held her high in the air. She kissed her cheeks and hugged her tightly to her damp chest. Dylan giggled, grabbing her mother's face with both hands and squealing. She always felt really good after a win, especially when she didn't even go all out.<p>

"Congrats Quinn! You were awesome! Wasn't she awesome, San?" Brittany chirped, hugging her sister tightly. Santana shrugged.

"She was aight."

Quinn rolled her eyes as Rachel approached the group. Quinn handed Rachel Dylan and Rachel smiled gratefully. She didn't like being away from Dylan for long periods of time, even if they were in the same building. "_Ew_, you're sweaty." Rachel commented, stepping away from Quinn.

Quinn rolled her eyes. She wiped her hands on her jersey, and then proceeded to try and touch Rachel. This resulted in Dylan being handed over to Dallas and Quinn chasing Rachel out of the gym.

"Think she'll catch her?" Dallas asked the group.

"Bet you 10 bucks Quinn will catch her." Santana challenged Dallas. Dallas thought for a moment. She knew Quinn was one of the fastest athletes at school, but Rachel was a midget and midgets run fast as shit. "Alright!" Frannie rolled her eyes as they shook hands.

"Let's go. I want to see the Packers and 49ers game." Brittany whined. She was a die-hard Greenbay fan, as was Santana.

"Packers will lose. Watch, it'll be tied with like three minutes to go and then the Packers do something stupid and the 49ers win by a field goal." Frannie mumbled. She didn't like football, but she did often watch it with Dallas.

"Whatever. My packers got this!" Santana yelled, causing Brittany to nod her head in agreement. As they walked out into the chilly December air, a resounding slap echoed through the parking lot, followed by a loud, "_OWWW WHAT THE FUCK?_"

"Dallas you owe me 10 bucks."

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><p><strong>The first few chapters are developing quite well I think. More to come, stay tuned and don't forget to leave me some feedback. -Wren<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Rachel does NOT live with Quinn, I don't know if I said she did, but if I did I lied. She's over the blonde's house all the time because she Quinn needs to spend more time with Dylan.**

_**Chapter 3. Dysfunctional**_

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><p>"Here, put this on your cheek." Francine advised, holding out a small biggie filled with ice. Quinn grumbled lowly to herself as she snatched the bag from her sister's outstretched hand, pressing it to her rapidly swelling cheek. "It's not funny, Dallas!" She growled at the southern girl, who was standing by the TV, clutching her stomach, shaking with mirth.<p>

Of course this only made her laugh harder. "Hey, shut up!"

"She slapped the shit out of you. I mean _damn_ Quinn, can you still _see_ straight? I didn't get slapped, but _damn_ I felt that shit over here. Call your mom and see if she's alright Quinn. I know she felt that shit. Damn do you still know what year it is? Quick, Wh-"

"Shut up Santana!" Quinn shouted as she let the ice fall from her cheek. She crossed her arms and leaned back into the soft cushion of the black leather sofa she was sitting on. "I hope the Packers lose!" She retorted.

Santana scoffed. "Don't jinx it bitch. If they lose, watch I'ma _make_ Floyd MayRachel slap you on the other side of your face."

"Santana, be nice." Brittany chided, running her hand through her girlfriend's soft black hair. They occupied the other sofa. Santana was lying sprawled out on her back, her head resting in her girlfriend's lap. Her brown eyes were glued to the football game showing on the flat screen. Frannie was sitting on the floor near them, playing with little Dylan. She expertly shuffled a deck of cards and the child watched with fascination in her big hazel eyes. "Where's Wonder Dwarf anyway?" Santana didn't really care, but she wanted the brunette here in case the blonde starting acting up again.

"She's in the shower." Quinn replied.

Quinn had already taken her shower when they got home after the game. She now wore tight, but not too tight, black skinny jeans, a long sleeved white sweater, and Jordan Concords. Her long blonde hair was still damp and pushed away from her face. She was a little tired, but otherwise she felt great. Well, everything besides her left cheek felt great…

Damn, she was not expecting Rachel to slap her. Well, yes she was, but she didn't know the tiny brunette could hit _that_ hard!

"Speaking of the devil," Frannie mused as the little brunette descended down the stairs. Her dark hair was still pulled into a pony tail, but it was loose and damp strands hung in her face. She wore a leather jacket that was slightly too big, a cream colored skirt that stopped mid-thigh, and white flats. _Hey, that jacket looks familiar_. Quinn thought. _Wait, that's my jacket_! She had her cheerios bag slung over her shoulder as she texted away on her pink iPhone 5c. Quinn decided to keep her mouth shut about the jacket. Not because she was scared to get slapped again, but because it was cold during this time of year and Rachel almost _never_ wore a damn jacket.

"Are you staying for the game, Rachel?" Brittany asked sweetly.

Rachel looked up from her phone, a genuine smile forming on her full lips. "Sure, why not? Besides, Quinn needs to spend more time with Dylan."

"What? I _always_ spend time with her." Quinn said, raising an eyebrow.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "No, you always _see_ her. You're usually too absorbed in a Laker's game or getting ready for your game to actually spend_ time_ with her."

Quinn was silent, contemplating what Rachel was saying. There was a lot of truth to Rachel's words, now that she thought about it. She did love Dylan, honestly she did. She was her first child. She did begin to feel guilty. She glanced at her daughter. Dylan was lying on her belly, her hazel eyes sleepily as she gently sucked on her hand. Frannie had abandoned her card tricks in favor of talking to Dallas. She got up from the couch and walked over to her baby girl. She gently slipped her hands underneath the little girl's arms and lifted her up from the floor. She held the little girl close to her chest. Dylan, even though she was far too young to really acknowledge what was going on in her life, recognized her mother's scent, and immediately melted into her arms.

Quinn locked eyes with Rachel for a long moment before she silently crossed the living room and headed upstairs to her room. Rachel watched her go with a ghost of a smile on her lips. "She_ does_ need to get to know Dylan more. She's not a bad mother; she's just young and so focused on basketball that she doesn't really understand her responsibilities as a mother." Frannie agreed, now sitting on the couch beside Dallas.

"You're not completely innocent either, Rachel." Frannie began, examining her nails. Rachel turned to the older blonde, eyes filled with curiosity.

"You think? You cheat on your Orangutan of a boyfriend and get knocked up by the cockiest little shit in Lima. You have a kid by said cocky little shit, you hate each other, and you _still_ date Finnasauraus. You know how _confusing_ that shit is? At this rate, the kids gonna think _he's_ her father." Santana put in. "That shit is hella annoying."

Rachel bit her lip. She locked eyes with Dallas, who nodded slowly in agreement.

"All you care about is Broadway and Cheerleading. All she cares about is Basketball. You both need to step up." Even Brittany agreed, adjusting the Greenbay snapback atop her blonde head. Santana smiled at her girlfriend, bringing her hand to her lips and kissing it gently.

Rachel stared at the white carpet beneath her feet, letting her friends' and Santana's words sink into her mind. They were right. Taking care of a child and loving a child were two different things. She loved Dylan as well, but she had a feeling knew neither her nor Quinn really showed her that. This also had to do with the fact that she and Quinn didn't really get along. She didn't necessarily hate the blonde, but she did get on her nerves. It also had to do with the fact they were two completely different people.

Rachel was more of a serious person, she hated messing around. She had the best grades and was a role model too many of the young girl's at McKinley. Quinn was the total opposite. Quinn loved to mess around. She told stupid jokes, played stupid pranks, and hung around stupid people like that one boy with the Mohawk. Her grades weren't the best, but since she was McKinley's biggest star athlete, they overlooked her grades in favor of her basketball skills. She realized that they needed to make amends, for Dylan's sake. She didn't want her daughter to grow up confused, and feeling unloved. She hastily stood from the couch. "Whoa, you're not going to slap us now are you? 'Cause I know where Frannie keeps her shotgun. And I ain't afraid to use it!" Santana warned.

Dallas blinked. "_You_ have a _shotgun_?" She asked the blonde.

Frannie shrugged. "For protection."

"More like killing her boyfriends." Santana muttered.

Rachel ignored them and bounded up the stairs. She walked down the hallway towards Quinn's room. She stopped in front of the partially closed door that had a poster of some female basketball player on the front of it. She knocked twice.

"Come in." Came Quinn's quiet voice.

Rachel huffed and pushed the door open. Quinn was sitting on the edge of her bed with baby Dylan in her arms, sleeping like the baby she was.

"Quinn, we need to talk."

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><p><strong>"Ow! Rachel what the fuck!"<strong>

**"Make longer chapters~"**

**I will be posting much, much, much, longer chapters. This is really just a filler chapter. Don't forget to review! Catch you later. -Wren**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Sorry for the wait, but I have recently been put on house arrest so I guess you can expect more frequent updates, lol.**_

_**Chapter 4. Truce**_

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><p>Rachel had always secretly admired Quinn's room. It was so big and clean. The air smelt faintly of vanilla and lavender with a hint of fresh cookies and mocha coffee. Her walls were a dark creamy white and her carpet was dark red. There were posters of various basketball players, men and women alike scattered neatly across her room. A flat screen sat upon her dresser complete with tons of gaming consoles neatly placed inside each of the little holsters. Endless boxes of shoes were stacked in the corner of her room near an Apple laptop and a pair of red beats headphones.<p>

Quinn was sitting sideways on her bed, Dylan cradled to her chest. She had her head gently resting on Dylan's as she gazed absently at nothing in particular. She looked a bit tired, but Rachel didn't know whether it was from her basketball game or just life. Quinn didn't look up as Rachel gently closed the door behind her and crossed the distance between them in silent strides. Quinn felt the bed slightly dip as Rachel settled herself gently beside her, not too close, but not too far. Dylan's sleepy gaze rested on her other mother for a few seconds before closing completely. Rachel had to smile at the sight.

Dylan's honey blonde hair was all over the place, falling into her eyes and she vaguely noted to take her to get a trim one of these days. "I'm sorry." Rachel's brown eyes widened slightly at Quinn's confession. She stared at the older blonde. Quinn tilted her head to the side, exposing that elegant creamy neck as she stretched the muscles that had been aching from sitting in the same position for so long.

"I didn't realize I was being a bad parent." Quinn said softly, meeting her gaze. Rachel hurriedly shook her head. "No, you're not a bad parent, Quinn. You're just young." Rachel offered just as softly.

"We're both young, much too young to be raising a child when we're hardly more than children ourselves." Quinn replied wistfully. "I mean, you're Rachel Berry. You're supposed to be some famous singer or whatever one day. You're basically McKinley's golden girl. You've got the best grades, the jock boyfriend, and the head cheerleader position. You're _perfect_ in a sense."

Rachel said nothing, but her eyes urged Quinn to continue. "Who'd have thought McKinley's sweetheart would be knocked up at _sixteen_?"

"All you care about is basketball. You live, breathe, and eat the sport for god's sake. I understand you love it and all, but you have a child now, Quinn." Rachel said evenly, after many moments of pure silence. "Do you want Dylan to grow up only knowing that you're her other parent? Or do you want to be her mother?"

Quinn didn't respond immediately. Rachel watched as her jaw clenched and her eyebrows twitched in discomfort.

"I do." She whispered finally. "I mean I_ love_ her, she's my child after all. But basketball is really all I know, I'm good at it. It's the only thing I really _can_ do. I'm not good at school and I don't really like people so I'm not very social. Parenting is so much harder, what if I'll never be good at it?"

Then, Rachel was reminded once again of how young they actually were. Quinn's face was one of anguish. "How'd you become so good at basketball?" Rachel mused, hesitantly reaching out and placing her hand on Quinn's shoulder. She felt Quinn stiffen under her touch, but she ignored it. "Practice." She replied instantly.

Rachel grinned proudly, retracting her hand and smoothing out her clothes as she stood. "Exactly. No one's expecting you to be an amazing parent right away, Quinn."

Rachel then began shrugging off the leather jacket she had taken earlier, intent on getting on the blonde's good side, but Quinn held up her hand. "Keep it. I mean you're just going to come in and steal it again." Quinn said. It was stated bluntly, but Rachel could hear the smile in her voice. This was progress. They'd probably never be best friends or anything, but they could at least learn to communicate without malice.

"I'm going to break up with Finn." Rachel announced. Quinn snapped her head up. Rachel's face had darkened a bit in contrast to the usual bright eyes and wide smiles she usually wore. Quinn raised an eyebrow in question. "Why? Don't you love him?"

Rachel swallowed and nodded. "I do, but there are much more important things in my life right now that a boyfriend." She said, glancing at the sleeping infant in Quinn's arms.

Quinn stared at her. She slowly rose from the bed, careful not to wake Dylan. She stuck out her hand to Rachel, who looked at it questioningly. "Truce?" A goofy smile found its way to Quinn's lips. Rachel took it with an identical one.

"Truce."

"You're _still_ annoying though." Quinn said, but with absolutely no malice. Rachel rolled her eyes.

"And you're _still_ an insufferable buffoon."

"What?"

"Ugh."

* * *

><p>"What's wrong baby?" Brittany asked, concern welling in her icy blue eyes. Santana had been continuously rubbing her cheek with a slight grimace for over twenty minutes now. Santana smirked. "Nothing, it's just that I'm still wondering how Quinn can still stand after a slap like that."<p>

Brittany giggled at her girlfriend's antics. She knew Santana would hold that slap over Quinn forever unless worse slap would come or she decided it wasn't funny anymore. Brittany cupped her girlfriend's face in gentle hands, staring deep into those chocolate brown eyes she loved so much. She loved the way Santana's dimple showed when she grinned or smirked and how infectious her laugh was. She pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, feeling the light flutter of Santana's long lashes as her eyes closed.

Santana kissed her exposed collarbone, wrapping her strong arms around Britany's lithe waist. She loved this girl so much.

Frannie opened her mouth and pointed a finger at her tonsils while making gagging noises. She secretly longed for a relationship like Brittany and Santana's, but people tended to stay away from her. She was mean, rude, and bitchy much like Santana, but Santana had Brittany and she had no one. She shook her head as she rose from the couch. Dallas looked at her curiously. "Let's leave them alone, Dallas. Let's go to my room." Frannie said, already retreating up the stairs. Dallas stretched her legs and followed shortly after.

Frannie's room was very plain. The walls were white as was the carpet. Her bed sheets were black and she didn't have any electronics other than her phone and some earphones. She didn't have any pictures or posters. The room smelled clean, but nothing more. There were no lingering scents of vanilla or chocolate. It was just plain. Dallas plopped on her bed, pushing the dark hair from her mossy green eyes as she watched Frannie dig through her drawers. It was silent for a few moments before she finally spoke. "Brittany's adopted isn't she?" She whispered. It was a question she had for a while.

Frannie glanced back at her companion. "Yeah. Her parents were really busy. They'd bring her over all the time. They'd usually leave her here because they couldn't deal with her endless energy or odd questions and they just didn't have time for her."

"But she's so sweet." Dallas argued with a frown.

"I know. One day they left her over here and never came back." Frannie said.

"What? Just like that? No explanation?"

"Nope. Shortly after that Russell left. He already was on edge about Quinn's condition. Actually he hated it. I remember him yelling at mom about how she should've gotten an abortion when she was pregnant with Quinn. He said I was his golden child, I was all he needed." Frannie snarled, her knuckles turning white from how hard she was gripping the corners of the dresser.

"When he suggested that they give Brittany to a foster home, my mom said no. He was outraged. He packed his shit and left. He couldn't raise an 'abomination' and a 'stupid child.' My mom was heartbroken for months, but she loved Quinn and Brittany too much. He wanted me to go with them, but I would never leave my little sisters or my mom. No matter how much they annoy me, I love them to death and I would do anything for them. He could rot in hell for all I care." Frannie said, almost in tears at this point.

Dallas pulled the smaller woman into her arms and kissed the top of her head as Frannie fell into her chest.

"It's okay. Their lucky to have such an amazing sister like you." Dallas cooed.

"I don't know what he would do if he found out Brittany had a girlfriend and Quinn had a child!" Frannie cried.

"Shh, he's gone. He can't hurt you guys."

But Frannie only cried harder. Something in her heart didn't feel right, and not even Dallas's presence could calm the gut wrenching feeling that something was going to happen.

_Something bad._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Next time on 42…<strong>_

_**Quinn and Rachel get a little closer, Dylan gets impossibly cuter, Santana and Brittany couldn't be any gayer, and a basketball game that could change Quinn and Rachel's paths forever.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Man, so how 'bout them Lakers though? Warning, I do tend to write under the influence (Or in this case above, lol) but mistakes are mine and mine alone.**

**Chapter 5. Love and Basketball**

* * *

><p>"Quinn! I am going to freaking <em>murder<em> you!" Rachel screeched in fury, bolting down the stairs at break-neck speed. Quinn, who was sitting on the couch watching the Jerry Springer show, snapped her head up just in time to witness Rachel clambering down the stairs like a god damn football player. She could literally feel the rage radiating from the little brunette from all the way over here! What did I do? Quinn meekly wondered as she shot up and glanced around, looking for a suitable weapon to defend herself from almost certain death. She grabbed the closest thing she could.

"Quinn, _put_ Dylan _down_ so I can castrate you!" Rachel seethed at the blonde who was holding her baby daughter out in front of her for protection. Frannie, Dallas, Santana, and Brittany all looked on from various places in the living room with amusement in their eyes. Quinn was honestly terrified. She could faintly hear Santana in the background whispering 'Slap her! Slap her!' Dylan giggled hysterically in her arms, reaching out with her chubby fingers towards her other mother.

Rachel tried to stay mad, but Dylan was just too cute. She reached out in front of her, but stopped when she felt a sudden chill attack her body. "NO! It _burns_!" Santana wailed in despair, dropping to her knees and shoving her wrists into her eyes, trying to rid them of the horror they just witnessed. Brittany giggled at her girlfriend's antics, not affected in the slightest. Frannie sighed, slapping her hand over Dallas's eyes. There was never a dull moment with these girls…

Quinn couldn't stop her eyes from casting downward, but she quickly snapped them back up. Rachel's cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she hurriedly picked up her towel and re-wrapped it around her body. "Quinn!" She snapped, when the blonde's eyes refused to move.

Quinn set Dylan gently on the carpeted floor, assuming the danger was over. "What? Nothing I haven't seen before."

_Fuck._

"_I'M GOING TO KILL YOU_!" Rachel screamed again, bolting after the blonde who made a break for the door as soon as she finished her sentence. "What did Quinn do?" Brittany wondered aloud.

Dallas chuckled. "She's going to die."

"Rachel's going to obliterate her." Frannie agreed, frowning at Santana who was still on the ground, groaning in agony.

"No, take _me_ instead!" She moaned.

Dylan giggled.

* * *

><p>An hour and forty minutes later the girls were entering the hallways of McKinley high. Dylan had been dropped off at her daycare and Rachel was now wearing clothes. Santana, still in intense pain had taken it upon herself to wrap thick white bandages around her head, covering her eyes. She leaned heavily on Brittany, who guided her through the hallway with ease. Dallas was talking animatedly to Frannie, who smiled fondly at her.<p>

Rachel was still yelling at Quinn, who had her eyes set forward as she ignored every single thing Rachel said. People who walked by tried in vain not to stare at the big, red handprint on Quinn's right cheek. Wait, what did I even do? She still wondered, but didn't want to make Rachel mad again.

"-And I hope you've learned your lesson! Messing with one's personal hygienic appliances is not only annoying, but _diabolical_! Do you know how much my shampoo costs? Ugh! It's going to take weeks for this putrid stench is cleansed from my hair! I can't even_ look_ at you! Goodbye." Rachel finished, storming down the hallway in the opposite direction.

Quinn watched her go with blank eyes. She reached her hand up to her ear and tugged the ear bud out. "What? What she say?"

"What who say?" Dallas asked.

"Rachel."

"Oh, what she say?"

"I was asking _you_!"

"I didn't say anything."

"I wasn't asking what you were saying! I was asking what _she_ was saying!"

"What _who_ was saying?"

"Rachel!"

"Oh, what she say?"

"_UGH_!" Quinn sighed in exasperation, throwing her hands up and storming down the hallway. Frannie rubbed her temples. "Do you have to?"

Dallas gave a mighty grin, wrapping her arm around Francine's shoulders and tugging her down the hallway. "It's entertaining." Their voices faded away as they got further and further.

* * *

><p>"Hey Brittany! I just saw Berry on my way to chem. She looked pissed. What happened?" Noah Puckerman asked as he spotted the duo steadily making their way to their first period, which they shared with Quinn and Rachel to Brittany's joy and Santana's dismay. He was handsome, well if you could look beyond the dead Skeever that rested on his head. His prized Mohawk seemed to look stupider and stupider every day to Santana.<p>

"Oh, Quinn replaced all her Shampoo with Ranch Dressing!" Brittany chirped. She was actually listening to Rachel when she talked. Puck narrowed his eyes. He finally noticed the bandages on Santana's face. "Whoa! What happened to you? You saw Berry naked or something?" He joked.

At his words, a loud wailing erupted through the hallway. Students turned and looked, thinking a dog had been shot or someone had just watched the final episode of Lost Girl. Brittany glared at him, gently cradling Santana's head to her chest. "Can't you see she's been through enough?" She snapped at him. She turned to her girlfriend.

"It's okay baby, it's okay. Just don't go towards the light." She cooed.

Santana gulped heavily. "It's too late for me baby. G-go on… _save yourself_!" She gasped out.

Puck eyed them weirdly as he slowly backed away.

"Lesbos are weird, but so fucking _hot_."

* * *

><p>"Hey Quinn, you look good." Kitty stated flirtatiously, running her hand discreetly up and down Quinn's toned arm. Quinn was wearing a plain white T-shirt that clung to her torso in all the right places. She wore skinny blue jeans and nice brown Timbs. Her hair was down and slightly curled. A light foundation of make-up and strawberry flavored lip gloss completed her casual look.<p>

"Thanks." Quinn replied, leaning back in her seat and resting her cheek in the palm of her hand. She didn't really mind Kitty's endless flirting because she knew the smaller blonde was only joking around. Besides, everyone knew she liked Dallas, well except Dallas. She wore a simple blouse with a cute floral pattern, short shorts, and dark blue Toms.

One by one students began to fill inside the musty classroom. Quinn was dreading Rachel's arrival more than usual today. To make matters worse, Rachel sat right next to her. She knew today would be a long day. She planned to skip practice today and go straight home to pick up her daughter and spend more time with her. They didn't have a game until Friday and it was currently Wednesday so she didn't have much to worry about. Quinn sighed as she flipped open the history book. Having history first period was probably the worst class to have so early in the day. Math was a close second and PE a possible third, but since she did a sport she didn't have PE. She was thankful she had Math fifth period.

She stuck her earphones back in her ear and turned on some Immortal Technique as she laid her head down on the cool wood of the desk and closed her eyes.

She was awoken a few minutes later to Rachel's persistent poking. She groaned as she looked at the little brunette. "What?" She mumbled in annoyance, shaking the earbud out of her ear. Rachel didn't look at her, but mumbled something back. Now Quinn was aware that all the attention of her classmates were on her. Shit, what were they doing.

"Well Ms. Fabray? We're waiting." Ms. Roads asked, her high pitched voice echoing through the nearly silent room.

"Blitzkrieg." Rachel was mumbling to her.

"What?"

"Blitzkrieg, just say it." Rachel mumbles dangerously.

"Umm, Blitzkrieg." Quinn stated uncertainly. Ms. Roads nodded. "Thank you. Now back to the lesson. In World War II-"

"No one cares." Santana stated bluntly from somewhere in the back of the room, but Ms. Roads ignored her. Quinn looked up gratefully at Rachel. "Thanks."

Rachel's lips looked like they wanted to morph into a smile, but she shook her head. "I'm still angry with you."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "What did I do?"

"You know what you did."

"If I knew what I did, I wouldn't be asking you what I did."

"You know what you did. You're just asking me what you did because you want me to think you don't know what you did when you really know what you did."

"What if I didn't do it?"

"You did it."

"How are you going to tell me what I did?"

"How are you going to ask what you did when you know what you did?"

"Cause I don't know what I did!"

"Ms. Fabray! Get out! I will not have you disrupting my class!"

Quinn was flabbergasted. "What did I do?"

"You know what you did. Bye."

* * *

><p>Dallas yawned as she and Francine walked through the hallway. Dallas didn't normally go to first period and Francine didn't go because she was a senior and seniors are above the law. (That's what they act like) "I still wonder why Rachel was so mad earlier."<p>

Frannie smirked. "Her shampoo got replaced with Ranch Dressing."

Dally laughed. "Wow! Quinn did that? I didn't think she had it in her."

"She didn't."

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"Forget it. Come on let's go to Mcdonalds or something. We're having salad for lunch today, but unfortunately there's not enough dressing."

**END of Chapter 5**

* * *

><p><strong>Damn, I like fucking with Quinn. It's pretty entertaining! Part 2 later tonight! Don't forget to review! It helps me update faster and motivate me to stop doing drugs!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Whoa, I didn't mean to leave you guys hanging like that. Life's been a bitch lately, but my saying goes, 'Inhale the good shit, Exhale the bullshit.' Stay high, my friends.**

**Chapter 6. The Lioness's Cub**

* * *

><p>"Okay class. Since the bell is due to ring in about thirty seconds, I would like to remind you about the upcoming essay-<p>

_Ring._

"…You have due." The teacher turned around to dismiss his class, only to be greeted with empty seats. He sighed as the only source of movement inside the room came from a piece of paper that had fallen from a desk and onto the hardwood floor. Rachel smoothed out her skirt as she slipped her bag onto her shoulder. She had to talk to Finn, but first she wanted to make sure Quinn remembered to pick up Dylan. She strutted through the crowded hallway, chin up and eyes forward.

She frowned, only to realize she had no idea where Quinn was. She spotted Santana leaning against Brittany's locker. Santana looked up from her phone when she heard Rachel's heels clicking against the floor. She smiled thinking it was Brittany, but it quickly vanished when she realized it was Rachel. "Haven't you done enough?" She scoffed, placing a hand dramatically on her chest. At least she got rid of those bandages and stopped claiming she had been assaulted.

Rachel simply rolled her eyes. "Do you know where Quinn is?"

"Do I look like her fucking secretary?" Santana growled, returning her gaze to her phone. "This game is fucking stupid! What kind of fucking bird flies like this? Where the _fuck_ did these pipes come from? This ain't no Super Mario!"

Rachel sighed as she left the Latina to deal with her frustrations of Flappy Bird. _Now if I was Quinn where would I be?_ Rachel thought to herself. _Of course!_ With a triumphant grin, Rachel sauntered off towards the gym.

* * *

><p>She was right. She found the blonde throwing complicated passes to the team's shooting guard while shouting words of encouragement. Rachel recognized her as Spencer Carlin, Quinn's right wing and best friend. She knew the girl's girlfriend, Ashley, who was the school's resident rock star. Rachel almost screamed when the ball nearly hit her in the face. "You threw it too high!" The shooting guard complained, stomping her foot like a frustrated child.<p>

"No, _you_ didn't jump high enough." Quinn shot back as she picked up the ball with a small nod to Rachel.

"Do I look like Blake Griffin to you? I can't jump that high."

"You don't have to Spencer. Just jump a little bit higher." Quinn said with a modest chuckle. Rachel waited patiently, giving a small smile to the shooting guard when she waved in greeting. "Last time, I've gotta go pick up Dylan."

_So she did remember,_ Rachel thought.

"Aw, you're not coming to practice?" Spencer whined. She hated when Quinn ditched practice, which wasn't often, but hated it nonetheless. Quinn smiled at her fellow blonde. "Nah, I'm going to spend the rest of the day with my baby girl. Besides, I've been yelled at enough today." She finished with a pointed look at Rachel. _You brought it upon yourself,_ Rachel thought with a huff.

"Then let's make this one count then." Spencer said as she jogged to the corner of the three point line. Quinn stood at the top of the key as she waited for her teammate to give her the signal that she was ready. Spencer nodded and ran towards the basket. When she pointed towards the raptors, Quinn tossed the ball towards the basket. Rachel watched in awe as Spencer caught the ball in mid-air and slammed it through the hoop. "That was _nice_." Quinn said as she slapped Spencer's hand and proceeded to do a rather complicated handshake with her. Rachel raised her eyebrow, impressed. She knew the other blonde was athletic and could certainly jump, but she didn't think she could jump like that. These girls were certainly amazing and she found herself excited for the next game as well.

"Just wait until we do that in game! Man, everyone's going to go _nuts!_" Spencer said, already hyped even though they didn't play again until Friday. Quinn chuckled as she tossed the ball to the blue eyed girl. "You'd better get to practice, Carlin before Coach makes you do suicides."

Rachel giggled at the look of utter horror on Spencer's face. "Shit, not again. Ashley was so mad when I promised her we could do it, but I was too tired to even move. See you guys later!" Spencer said as she grabbed her bag and dashed out the gym doors. "What's up?" Quinn said as she walked over to Rachel.

"I came to remind you to pick up Dylan, but you don't need it now do you?" Rachel replied as they slowly began walking towards the parking lot. Rachel still had practice, but it didn't start until 3:30 and it was only 2:59. Besides, she had plenty to do before it started.

"Would I really forget to pick up my daughter, Rachel?" Quinn asked with a light chuckle.

"Yes." Rachel challenged.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "It was _one_ time! I didn't even forget. I was just a little late."

"Oh really? I remember you calling me scared out of your mind because the day care lady gave Dylan to a nice Hispanic lady because you were thirty minutes late. You should have known it was Santana. Why would some random Hispanic lady come and take her?" Rachel recalled.

"The _nice_ part threw me off. Traffic was horrible that day." Quinn mused.

"It was around the corner from the house."

"It was _snowing._"

"I had no trouble driving through it."

"I know. I still have nightmares. It was the scariest day of my life." Quinn said with a shudder.

"_But_ did you die?" Rachel countered.

Quinn's BMW was matte black and had a white racing stripe running down the hood and trunk. It also had a cherry red pearlescent gleam to it along with a massive spoiler and scissor doors. Her mother made big money, and she spoiled her girls to death. The car looked entirely bad ass, but took a cute turn when you peeked inside the window and saw a Hello Kitty car seat in the back. Quinn unlocked her car and tossed her bag in the back seat. She slid into the driver's seat and started the car.

"I'll be there in a few hours. Call me or my fathers if you have any trouble. Remember to give her a bath and do not let her get ahold of your phone." Rachel warned.

Quinn waved her off. "Yeah, yeah I know. I'll see you later."

With one last wave, Quinn had rolled up her window and was rolling down the street, Lorde's Royal blasting through her speakers. Rachel turned back towards the school with a deep sigh. She slowly prepared herself for the breakup that was rapidly approaching.

_Dylan comes first,_ she reminded herself.

If he didn't respect that, he wasn't they guy she wanted to be with anyway.

* * *

><p>"Sometimes I think about what it would be like if we were in their positions." Brittany whispered into Santana's hair. They were in the gym, watching the girls' basketball team warm up. They wanted to give Quinn and Dylan some complete alone time before they made their way home.<p>

"Um, hot and sweaty." Santana said in distaste as she watched them. They were at the very top of the bleachers. Santana was sitting on one below Brittany, her back in between the blonde's long legs. Brittany had her arms wrapped around her chest, chin atop her head. She loved the smell of her girlfriend's hair. She always smelled of coffee and cinnamon and tasted even better. She chuckled at Santana's response. "No silly. I mean Quinn and Rachel."

Santana was confused and a little disgusted. "I don't want to think about what positions they be in."

"I don't mean sexually, San." She said fondly. "I mean with Dylan and everything."

Santana thought for a moment. Her ass was numb and her back was killing her from being pressed into the bleacher for so long. She never really thought about that. She wouldn't know what she would do if she had to go through what Quinn and Rachel go through. What if she had gotten Brittany pregnant and she was still with Artie even after the child was born? She couldn't even think about having a child in the first place. She didn't even like kids to begin with. She loved Dylan of course, but Dylan wasn't her kid so it wasn't a problem. She couldn't stop the smile forming on her lips. What if she had a kid- or kids with Brittany? She could kind of imagine it. A few little pale skinned, raven haired, brown eyed, dimpled children running around didn't sound _so_ horrible.

"Do you want kids?" Santana found herself asking. She couldn't see Brittany's face so she just listened to her heartbeat. It seemed to speed up all of a sudden. "Someday. It would make my life complete just to have your eyes on little me."

Santana's own heart seemed to swell with love and adoration. She tugged her girlfriend of two years down to her level, kissing those soft pink lips she loved so much. Suddenly, _kids_ didn't seem so horrible anymore.

"How many?" Santana said in between kisses.

"Three, two girls one boy. Or all boys, or all girls, anything really." Brittany replied back.

"Have you like ever thought of names?" Santana asked when their make out session was over.

"Carly…I've always loved that name." Brittany admitted. Santana let the name roll on her tongue. She kind of liked it. "What about you?"

"Nicki." Santana admitted. Brittany rolled her eyes. She just didn't understand her girlfriend's obsession with Nicki Minaj.

"What about a boy?"

"Nick."

"Santana."

"That's not a boy's name."

"I know. You know I love you right?" Brittany whispered.

Santana smiled. "I love you too, B.

"But I _don't_ love you enough to name our child after Nicki Minaj."

* * *

><p>"What are we?" Frannie breathed against her skin. Her face was hot, her hands sweaty, and butterflies fluttered restlessly inside her stomach. Her red lips placed a gentle kiss on her golden skin. Her hand was tangled into hair dark as night, but her eyes were locked with hues bright as day. The Southern Belle's lips grazed her forehead; her gentle hands caressed the small of her back. "We can be whatever you want to be." She whispered back, her voice so husky her accent became even more pronounced.<p>

"I don't even _like_ girls." Frannie almost slurred. She's drunk off Smirnoff and Dallas's kisses. She doesn't know if the other girl is drunk. She can't taste any alcohol on her lips. She had Dallas pressed against the wall, her towering frame almost enveloped Frannie's completely, but she loved it. She loved how tall she was, how nice she smelled, how green her eyes were, and how long her hair was.

"But _you_ like _me._" Dallas said with s deep chuckle. Frannie's hands moved to her chest, flat out, fingers extended, and digging into the golden skin of her collarbone. Her head was spinning. She didn't know whether it was from the Smirnoff or Dallas. She moaned when she felt those hands travel down to her ass. "I…I'm going to slap…you." She warned, though she really didn't want her to move her hands. Dallas only pulled her closer, hugging her tight. She kissed her heated forehead, her flushed cheeks, her silent tears, and swollen lips. "Why me? You're so… attractive. And nice, and I'm…a bitch."

Dallas smiled softly. "You're special. You're like my Annie."

Confusion swirled within Frannie's sky blue eyes. She didn't know who Annie was. Was it another girl? She felt jealousy course through her veins. Dallas was hers. Her heart began to ache. She honestly didn't know what was wrong with her. She didn't know why she was drunk. She didn't even know how she got drunk in the first place. She didn't know why she felt this way. She felt angry, conflicted, emotional, weak, and hot. She felt as if someone had poured gasoline into her system and ignited a flame of…something within her. She felt more tears slide down her cheeks as her knees became too weak. She found herself falling down, but Dallas caught her. Instead of trying to pull her back up, she fell with her.

Dallas was now on the ground, staring up at the ceiling with the distressed blonde resting on her chest. "You're weird." Frannie said with an uncharacteristic giggle as she snuggled into her neck. She stared at the poster on the ceiling, and a little laugh escaped her throat. She placed a hand on a now slumbering Frannie's back. They had the same blonde hair, icy blue eyes, and cold personality. Frannie was like a real life Annie, minus the ability to transform into a five story, naked, skinless, monster.

She had no idea what she was thinking about. Nothing was making sense to her, but she would be here when Frannie woke up. She would always be here when Frannie woke up.

* * *

><p>"Okay, little cub what do you want to do?" Quinn asked her daughter as she opened the door to the house. She tossed her back pack on the couch and set Dylan's bag on the coffee table. The toddler simply pressed her tiny hands into Quinn's cheeks. Her identical hazel eyes were huge. Everything amazed her, but for some reason she had grown quite enamored with Quinn's face. Quinn chuckled as she sat down on the couch and placed the girl on her lap.<p>

"You're real cute, you know that?" Quinn said. As if to answer her question, Dylan grinned mightily, her dimples threatening to swallow her entire face. Quinn felt her heart melt in her chest. Dylan may be an exact replica of herself, but she certainly did have Rachel's incredible smile. She brushed the feather soft blonde curls out of the toddler's eyes and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. She noticed her eyebrows and bits of her hair were beginning to darken. "Going brunette, little cub?" She joked.

Growing up, Quinn had always been told she looked like a lion. She didn't know whether it was from her wild golden hair something else. If she was a lion that made Dylan her cub. _What about Rachel though?_ She thought. _Rachel was not a lion. Maybe a cat? No that seems too…normal. A mountain lion then? No too…I don't know._

"What kind of animal is your mama, Dylan?" Quinn mused as she leaned back and began to bounce the girl on her lap. _Could Rachel be a wolf? She most certainly was the leader of her pack, but a wolf didn't seem to fit Rachel's description._ "A deer? Nah, Deer are harmless."

"Maybe a tiger?" She looked at Dylan for confirmation, but the baby just continued to jump on her lap. "Okay, we'll leave it at that."

She sat there in silence for a few moments before an idea popped into her mind. She held Dylan in one arm as she reached under the couch and retrieved a small black binder. Dylan looked on with mild interest while sucking on her fist. She set the binder on her lap. "Okay, how about a little lesson before bath time?" Quinn cooed. She took Dylan's giggle as a yes and opened the binder and pointed at the picture held in a protective sleeve.

"This is Kobe Bryant. He's one of the greatest Lakers in history. He's got five rings and he has the prettiest fade away in the game. He's my second favorite player. I'd take you to see him play, but he'll probably be retired by the time you're old enough." Quinn explained as she looked at the picture of the dark skinned man wearing a yellow jersey with the number twenty four painted on his abdomen. Dylan ran her finger along the edge of the picture, her huge eyes fixed on the bright colors. Quinn turned the page.

"This is Steph Curry. He's my favorite player, no disrespect to Kobe, but have you seen him play? Jesus, he can literally shoot anyone out the gym. He plays for the Golden State Warriors."

She showed her daughter a picture of an olive toned man wearing a bright blue jersey with yellow trims. Dylan seemed to be more attracted to his out-of-this-world bright green shoes.

"This is Kyrie Irving. He was rookie of the year like two years ago. He plays for the hometown. Well, he plays for Cleveland, but we don't have a team because Lima sucks so everyone here is Cavaliers fans. Expect me baby, I'm a Laker's fan. Don't tell anyone though. They'll isolate me." Quinn said with a chuckle.

Dylan had no idea what was going on, but she was attracted to the bright colors of these pictures and her mother's voice. She sat down on her mother's lap as Quinn set the binder on her tiny legs. She sucked on the pacifier Quinn gave her absently. "Let's move to the WNBA now."

"She's certainly a looker huh?" Quinn chuckled as she showed Dylan a picture of a beautiful black woman with long brown hair and a huge smile. "This is Skylar Diggins. She was drafted third to the Tulsa Shock last year. She's kind of my idol."

Dylan gave a chirp as she grabbed at the neon green jersey the woman was wearing. _Fighting Irish_ was written in dark green bubble letters across her chest.

"Candace Parker plays for the LA Sparks, my dream team. I hope I make it to the WNBA one day. It's my dream to be the greatest female basketball player in the world." She stared at the picture of the pretty fair skinned woman with a lanky build and a golden jersey on her back. Quinn hoped one day, some other basketball obsessed mother or father would be showing their kids pictures of her as a WNBA star. "I'd be rich, make the Hall of Fame, Team USA, and maybe I'd even meet Kobe or Steph right?"

Sensing a change in her mother's attitude, Dylan laid her head back on her chest and played with her long golden hair. Quinn smiled at her first-born. She tossed the binder on the coffee table and hugged her tightly.

"I'd always do the best for you though Dylan. I want you to have the best life possible." She whispered. "Both of your parents love you very much, you know that right? We may argue and she may abuse me for no apparent reason, but we love you and we will always be here for you."

Dylan hummed. Quinn didn't know if it was because that's what babies did or if she actually understood what her mother was saying to her. Quinn kissed the top of her head as she rose from the couch. "It's bath time, Little Cub."

* * *

><p>Rachel walked into the Fabray house an hour later. She had tear stains on her cheeks and her lips were swollen from biting on them. She had thrown her hair up into a halfhearted bun and changed out of her uniform and into some simple skinny jeans, a white fleece sweater, and Quinn's Letterman jacket. <em>Maybe I should stop stealing her clothes<em>, Rachel thought with a sniffle. She'd done it; she'd broken up with Finn. He wasn't happy about it either.

_"Are you serious, Rachel? I've put up with everything you've done and you're just going to leave me? If anything I should be breaking up with you!"_

_"It's not that simple, Finn. I've got a child now."_

_"I know! Would you please stop reminding me? Do you have any idea how frustrating it is when I see you holding it? Do you know how hard it is to stare into the eyes of a child your girlfriend had, when those eyes belong to someone else?"_

_"I'm sorry I cheated on you, Finn. But I am not sorry for Dylan's birth. She comes first."_

He looked at her. She'll never forget how he looked at her. His face was red with anger, but his eyes were wet with tears. He clenched his fists and his breathing became erratic. He whipped around. "_If that freaking baby was never born, we'd be perfect. Its ruined everything! It's a bastard! Just like its father!"_

He had run off before she could even react. She felt as her heart was breaking into little tiny pieces. The boy she had promised to spend her life with before, her first love had just cursed her child and her mother. She felt sick, betrayed, and angry. She walked past the girl's bathroom, unaware of the cool grey eyes watching the entire encounter.

She snuggled deeper into Quinn's jacket. Even though it had been bundled up in her locker, it still smelled like Quinn. She looked around the living room for her daughter and Quinn, but it was empty. The TV was left on and Quinn's Hall of Fame binder was on the coffee table. She turned the TV off and trudged upstairs. She really needed to see Quinn and Dylan right now. She knocked gently on Quinn's door because one or both of them might be sleeping. "Hold on."

Quinn's soft voice wafted through the cracked door. Her voice calmed Rachel's turmoil a little. A few seconds later Quinn was looking down at Rachel with curious hazel eyes. She changed her clothes and was now wearing loose red Hollister sweats, a plain white T, and red Nike Slippers. She immediately knew something was wrong with Rachel so she gently pulled her into the warm room and shut the door behind her. She looked around for Dylan, but she couldn't find her. "Where's Dylan?" She sniffled.

"My mom came home a few minutes ago and asked to borrow her for an hour because the ladies at work wanted to meet her granddaughter." Quinn replied as she reached into her pockets and handed Rachel a tissue. Rachel accepted it gratefully as she sat down on the edge of Quinn's bed. Quinn watched her silently. She already figured out what was going on. "I take it Finchel is no more?" She said softly.

Rachel nodded. She didn't know if she wanted to tell Quinn what Finn said about her and Dylan. She felt if Quinn found out, Santana would find out, then Francine would find out, then Finn would surely die. She didn't want him to die even if what he said was unforgivable. She broke down into tears. Quinn hesitated a few seconds before sitting next to her and gently rubbing her back. When Rachel felt the contact she threw herself into the blonde's arms. Quinn stiffened for a few seconds before embracing her back fully. She felt anger course threw her normally cool veins. Finn must have said something to her, but Rachel wasn't ready to talk about it. She just stared forward with her chin resting on brunette locks and fury coursing through her veins.  
><em>This guy<em>, she thought as she closed her eyes and attempted to calm herself down.

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><p><strong>Hope you had a happy Easter! I certainly did. *Cough* 420 *Cough* Review* *Cough***


	7. Chapter 7

**Is anyone reading an actual basketball fan like me? If you are, did you hear what Clipper's owner Donald Sterling said about black people? Shame, I thought people were over the whole race thing, but I guess some people just cannot let go of the past. _Stay High_, my friends.**

_**Chapter7. Head Trauma Part 1**_

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><p>Rachel snuggled deeper into the warm blankets with a small sigh of content. They smelled of coconut shampoo and baby powder, which was odd since she didn't use coconut shampoo. She didn't remember getting in her own bed. Hell, she didn't even remember going home. She blinked open her muddy brown eyes, squinting to adjust to the light in the bedroom. When she spotted the huge Kobe Bryant poster on the back of the bedroom door, she immediately knew she wasn't home.<p>

She slowly lifted her head, vaguely aware of the slight pounding of her head. Her eyes felt puffy and swollen and it was then she remembered the events that had taken place earlier today. She didn't mean to come and cry her eyes out to Quinn, it just sort of happened. She most certainly didn't mean to fall asleep in her room and steal all her covers. Her eyes widened a bit when she spotted the athletic blonde sitting on the edge of her bed, eyes fixed on the TV, and a game controller in her hands. She had those ridiculously big green and white headphones over her ears so Rachel doubted she'd be able to hear anything.

She peered over her shoulder at the TV. The blonde was playing a rather colorful game that involved a man on a motorbike doing ridiculous tricks on giant ramps and dirt tracks. It was a lot different than the games Quinn usually played, which either consisted of unnecessary violence or explicit horror games.

Rachel stretched her hands over her head, groaning in satisfaction when her back popped. She had been curled up into a tight ball during her slumber, which was something she usually did when she was upset. Quinn, despite the headphones, heard the small girl and paused her game. It was then Rachel realized that the headphones weren't actually playing any music. Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, I thought you were listening to music." Rachel whispered.

Quinn barked out a laugh. "These are Turtle Beaches, Rachel."

"I'm sorry?"

"They're gaming headphones. I can hear everything within the game through them instead of the TV. I didn't want to wake you up." Quinn explained as she removed them from her head. Rachel had to smile.

"Thank you."

Quinn waved her off with a small grin. "It's nothing. It's just this song gets really annoying after four hours of non-stop play."

"I've been sleeping for four hours?" Rachel asked, surprised. She had been tired, but she didn't think she was that tired.

Quinn shook her head, golden blonde locks falling into her bright hazel eyes. "No, you've only been sleeping for like forty-five minutes. I've been playing this game since my mom abducted Dylan."

Rachel gave a small giggle. She found herself wanting to keep up a conversation with the blonde. They didn't usually flow so smoothly. "What are you playing?" She asked, sitting all the way up. She pushed her hair away from her face.

"_Trials Fusion,_ it's an arcade game." Quinn said as she resumed playing. She didn't look at all bothered by Rachel's presence. Truthfully, she didn't really like to be alone, so the tiny brunette's presence was welcomed.

"What's the objective?" Rachel pressed, her brown eyes intrigued. She thought the game was very pretty with its bright colors and outrageous terrain.

Hazel eyes softened as a small smile took hold of plump red lips. "You have to complete the course while doing the most illogical tricks in mid-air and not breaking your face when you land."

Rachel frowned slightly. "Then why are you playing tennis with a penguin?"

"It's an Easter Egg."

"Why are you playing tennis with an Easter Egg?" Rachel looked at Quinn, confusion swirling in those giant brown eyes that vaguely reminded Quinn of a baby deer. She chuckled. "No, an Easter Egg is like a little side mission within a video game. I just happened to stumble upon this one during one of my many fits of rage."

"Do you want to try?" Quinn asked kindly, holding out the black controller. Rachel gladly accepted it. She knew how to play simple games. He had taught her when she would go over to his house when he and Noah would have their game night. "LT is the brake, RT is the gas. Use the sticks to balance the bike to what you think is the most logical position to land on the track."

Rachel nodded as she scooted closer to the TV and Quinn. She held the controller close to her face, its white insignia reflecting brightly in her doe eyes. Quinn smiled as she leaned back on her arms and watched her play. She didn't question Rachel about the breakup any further and she figured whatever had gone down in their encounter had deeply hurt Rachel's feelings. She cried herself to sleep shortly after Quinn's attempts at comforting her.

She wouldn't question her any further though. She wouldn't push the girl into talking about it if she didn't want too and as far as she knew, it didn't concern her. However, if Rachel was willing to talk about it she would listen and do her best to comfort her. Well, she's my baby mama, Quinn thought with an earnest chuckle. She's seen what those other baby mama's crazy relationships with their partners were like and she did not want that to happen with her and Rachel. She thought it was kind of trashy and didn't want Dylan to have to go through that, 'baby mama drama.' Besides, she did like Rachel as a person most of the time. She did get annoying at times and had the tendency to slap her for no apparent reason, but she did like her. She didn't know Rachel's feelings toward her, but she didn't want to ask neither.

She would try and tone down their usual banter while the brunette got over her breakup. She was mildly impressed with Rachel's skill at _Trials Fusion,_ but she was still a noob.

"This is way too easy for you. What do you say we toughen things up a little bit?" Quinn challenged, producing another controller from underneath her bed. Rachel nodded briskly, not one to back down from a challenge no matter what it may be.

"I'm going to need my controller though." Quinn said, pointing to the one in Rachel's grasp. Rachel raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Why can't you use that one?"

"That's my Day One edition. It's my lucky controller!" Quinn said, reaching for it. Rachel pulled it back. She thought Quinn's controller may be secretly, _enhanced_ and would make it easier for her to beat the little brunette.

"Is it enhanced?" Rachel questioned.

"Enhanced? What are you taking about?" Quinn asked, confusion in her greenish-golden eyes.

"Does is have features that makes gameplay easier for you and harder for your opponent when playing together?" She explained.

"Oh, you mean _modded._ I don't have any modded controllers, Rachel. Well, I have one for the one down-stairs, but that's only for _Call of Duty_."

"So you do cheat?"

"Please, everyone cheats at _Call of Duty_. It would be an insult to the game if you didn't cheat." Quinn says, a spark in her eyes. She and Rachel trade controllers and Quinn disconnects the Turtle Beaches so that the music comes from the TV and Rachel can suffer through it too.

"Now, let's play."

* * *

><p>On the other side of town, deep in Lima Heights Adjacent, Santana sits on her front porch, iPhone in hand as she plays yet another round of Flappy Bird while she waits for Brittany. Her blonde girlfriend had to run home and help because her younger sister got her foot stuck in a pickle jar. How she had achieved that, no one knew.<p>

It was around 5:30 and the sun was still a few hours from setting. However in Lima heights, nightfall didn't mean the day was over. Nightfall meant the day had just begun. Already people were coming home from work and setting up shop on their porches with their friends. She lived right in the middle of a cul de sack so she had the view of the entire neighborhood.

When people think of Lima Heights they think ghetto, nasty, and dangerous. Most of that was Santana's doing but in reality it was actually a nice neighborhood. It was large and very racially diverse. The Blacks and the Browns really got along well and there were tons of LGBT people around. She lazily watched as a group of boys set up a basketball court in front of her yard and began to pick teams. Behind them a group of Puerto Rican girls played Volleyball with a homemade net and a little further off, Latina boys and girls kicked a soccer ball around the street.

Brittany loved Santana's neighborhood. It was mostly because of the very frequent visits of the Tamale Lady and the Ice-cream Man, but she loved playing with the kids as well. Even though it was a very laid back neighborhood, there was still a slight lingering presence of drug dealers and gang members. They didn't bother the families much, just settling on the corner for those willing to pay.

Santana sighed heavily as her bird once again smacked face first into a random green pipe. She contemplated on throwing her phone at the woman walking in front of her house, but decided against it because it was her mother and she very much wanted to eat dinner tonight. She was just about to retreat back into her house when a figure approached her. Santana looked up and sighed. Sometimes these lingering drug dealers really needed to get uppercutted, Cleveland Bus Driver style. "For the _last_ fucking time, Vause. I don't smoke dope. So beat it." She said, waving her hand.

The woman chuckled, sweeping her long dark hair from her face. "I'm afraid I'm not here for that." Santana raised an eyebrow.

Alex Vause was McKinley's resident dope dealer. She was also the definition of tall, pale, and gorgeous. She had long black hair with electric blue tips and flawless pale skin. She wore dark rimmed glasses over her sharp grey eyes. Her lips were full and drawn back into an ever present smirk. She was taller than most girls, and had a nice build. Her deep voice only added to her charm. _That's fucking gay,_ Santana thought as she assessed the girl's features. "Didn't you just get out of Juvie?" Santana questioned.

Alex shrugged. "I said I wasn't here to sell you drugs."

Santana smirked. "Oh did Piper finally knock some sense into you?"

Alex rolled her eyes at the mention of her blonde girlfriend. She knew coming to Santana should have been the last person she went to, but she didn't know the basketball player or the other blonde all that well. She had some information to deliver and she knew Santana would most certainly deliver it. Alex cleared her throat. "Does the name Finn Hudson ring a bell?"

Santana examined her nails. _I need a fucking manicure,_ she thought. "Tall, pale, and stupid?"

Alex nodded.

"Okay what about him? Please don't sell anything to him; I don't think I can handle another level of stupidity. Besides his guard midget would totally kill you." Santana said.

"I'm afraid his 'guard midget,' as you put it, had been relieved of duty." Alex explained. This caught Santana interest. "They broke up? Stop fuckin' with me."

"Believe me, I was there. I was in the bathroom when I heard him yelling at her." Alex said.

Santana eyed the taller girl carefully. Her intelligent grey eyes flickered with something Santana couldn't quite put her finger on. Santana wasn't stupid by any stretch of imagination. She knew Alex didn't come here for gossip. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Dylan's cute." She suddenly said. Santana rolled her eyes. "Listen, Dana, I don't know how you got here from _That 70's Show,_ but you're wasting my time. People got shit to do. So if you don't mind I will be taking my ass inside my house so I can look for a fuck to give." Santana said as she rose from the porch.

"He made her cry." Alex tried. "It was a low blow."

"I don't care."

"_That baby is a bastard, just like its father_."

Santana was already at her door when she whipped around, eyes promising murder. _Ah, hell no. You don't disrespect my girlfriend's family_. She thought as she got into Alex's face, which wasn't very intimidating at all considering Alex's height. "What the fuck did you say, _puta_? Don't _ever_ come at my girl's family like that. That's my fucking niece and best friend right there." Santana snarled.

"His words, not mine. I was simply quoting what he told her."

_What the fuck? I'll fucking kill that piece of shit!_ Santana thought as she gritted her teeth together. He crossed the line on that one. He's said stupid shit all the time, but this time he crossed the line. She felt her heart skip a beat at the effect it might have had on Rachel. "Where's the midget?" She asked. She wasn't mad at Alex; she was actually a bit grateful the girl had brought this information to her.

Alex shrugged. "She was crying like hell. I know she skipped practice because that crazy blonde lady with the bullhorn and tracksuit was storming through the halls looking for her. She might've gone home." Seeing as she had no more information to give to the Latina, Alex began to walk away. Santana watched her with hawk eyes. She knew there was a motive behind all of this. Alex was a drug dealer for god's sakes, she didn't just give without expecting to get. "_Why_ did you tell me this instead of Quinn?"

"Quinn was long gone by the time this happened. Besides, I don't know her like that." Alex said.

"I know dipfuck. Why though? Are you trying to start something?" Santana scoffed.

Alex smirked. It was filled with mischief and her eyes sparkled. "No, I just thought I'd do you a _favor._" And with that, the dark haired woman was gone. She disappeared into the throng of people on the street. She slipped out her phone and texted Berry.

**To: WonderDwarf**

_I hope you're over Finngnorant, 'cause I'm going to fucking end him._

Her reply was almost instantaneous.

**From: WonderDwarf**

_You heard him?_

**To: WonderDwarf**

_A little birdie told me. Does Quinn know your ex cursed her and her spawn?_

**From: WonderDwarf**

_No, I haven't told her yet. I don't want this to cause a scene…_

**To: WonderDwarf**

_Look Lea Micshort, I'ma let you tell her because he didn't say it to me. She's going find out eventually and when she does I don't know how she's going to react. She's unpredictable, but she's not stupid. She won't do anything drastic because she's got way too much to lose._

**From: WonderDwarf**

_I know… I'll tell her eventually._

Santana sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. She tossed her phone on the couch when she got inside. She was angry, but there was nothing she could do right now. She just sat there rubbing her temples while she waited on her girlfriend.

* * *

><p><em>"C'mon<em> Rachel, put the phone down and come get this ass whoopin'." Quinn chided as they sat on the character selection screen for _Killer Instinct_. They had grown bored of Trials Fusion after about 30 minutes. Rachel had grown quiet and lost some of her cheerfulness during the time she had been on the phone. She wondered if it was Finn, but she didn't question it. She cleared her throat. She was having a good time with the little brunette.

"Are your dads home?" She asked when Rachel settled on Orchid. She sighed, she was hard to beat. Rachel shook her head. "No, they're working late. It's just going to be Dylan and I, assuming your mother returns her."

Quinn paused. "You could stay, if you want."

Rachel looked at the blonde carefully. She has stayed over plenty of times before. She would usually bunk with Brittany when Santana didn't stay, which was rare and Dylan would sleep in her own room. "You can sleep here if you want." Quinn gestured to her bed. She didn't mind sleeping on the floor or elsewhere. If Rachel wanted to stay she could most certainly stay. She chose Saberwulf as the game was set to begin. Rachel looked at Quinn with a genuine smile.

"I would like that."

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><p><strong>Progressssssssssssss!<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Finally typed this bad boy up in spite of four broken fingers, lungs full of Sativa, a pretty girl doing yoga in my living room, and resisting the urge to kill, stab, and strangle Nazis in _Wolfenstein: The New Order._ Next update untimely depends on reviews. It's simple really. You review, and I update faster. That way everybody wins! By the way, plenty of Spencer and Ashley for all of you Spashley fans out there! Stay high, my friends.**

_**Chapter 8 Head Trauma Part 2**_

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><p>Frannie slams the door so hard, she's almost positive there are cracks now on the wall. She's beyond pissed off and terribly hung over. She's wearing a pair of ripped punk jeans, an oversized hoodie, and a pair of <em>Raybands<em>. The fact that they _smell_ like Dallas, considering they are her clothes, makes her even more enraged.

Sometimes she wants to beat her senseless. Other times she wants to kiss her until her lips are raw and bleeding. They fight like the married couple Dallas so much wants them to be, but Frannie isn't with it. She doesn't want to be tied into a relationship, especially with Dallas. She's not even sure if she likes _girls_ at all.

She plops onto the couch, ignoring its squeak of protest and buries her head into the soft pillows lying on the armrest as she recalls the events that had taken place earlier. She woke up with a splintering headache, cuddled into Dallas' chest as the taller girl leans against the wall at the foot of her bed. She remembers the usually sparkling green eyes staring out of the window, the only sparkle coming from the sunlight reflecting through the window.

She recalls the beer bottles littering the girl's floor, the smell of marijuana sticking to Dallas's clothes, and sex in the air. She recalls counting the number of scratches and bruises lining her companions golden skin, the busted lip, ripped shirt, and the uncomfortable ache in her legs. Rough sex wasn't rare with them, but Dallas seemed especially angry. Frannie much prefers it that way, no love making, but trouble making.

She said some things and Dallas had said some things back. It ended with Frannie storming out and Dallas wiping her bloodied nose on the soft fabric of the white t shirt she wore. She wishes Dallas would hit her back and put her in her place, but she knew Dallas would never put her hands on her like that.

She throws the glasses from her face, not caring that they clattered on the ground loudly and possibly cracked. Dallas just isn't someone she thinks she could be with.

Dallas was very attractive, that much she knows. She's tall, dark, and gorgeous. But Frannie couldn't help but dislike her punk exterior and her stretched ears. Oh, she absolutely loathed Dallas's ears. She can probably stick her whole finger up until her knuckle inside her lobes. The ripped jeans, boldly colored tattoos, facial piercings, and the fact that she had the ability to make her knees go weak with that stupid, dimpled smile added insult to injury.

Frannie bites her lip and clenches her fists. She can feel tears pricking her cold eyes, anger surging through her veins. She doesn't know what she wants. She confuses herself as much as she confuses Dallas. She doesn't want Dallas and she most certainly doesn't want to be in love.

But she can't fucking _stand_ the thought of Dallas being with someone else.

* * *

><p>Quinn sits on her bed; sweat coats her body from her morning workout. She has the front of her shirt clenched in between her teeth as he scrolls through her Instagram as she waits for Rachel to get out of the shower.<p>

Last night was fun. She and Rachel stayed up most of the night playing _Battlefield 4_, listening to Kendrick Lamar, (Quinn's favorite rapper) and watching _Ridiculousness._ (Quinn's favorite show.) Rachel didn't at all seem to mind Kendrick's explicit lyrics or Chanel West Coasts' annoying bouts of laughter, making the blonde realize she wasn't so uptight after all.

She chuckles as she recalls Rachel insisting on her purchasing _Wolfenstein_ sometime this week. She learned that FPS (First Person Shooters) was Rachel's preferred types of games. She was going to purchase _Wolfenstein_ anyway, but she was hesitant because she thought it might make Rachel upset considering her heritage. But Rachel assures her she's very open to the idea of killing, stabbing, and strangling Nazis.

She likes a picture Santana posted of Puck sleeping in geometry with a penis drawn on his cheek that's pointing at his mouth with three little dashes connecting them.

Brittany, Santana, nor Frannie had come home last night, so Rachel and Quinn pretty much had the house to themselves. Her mother returned very late and Dylan had been sleep long before she was even put to bed.

She likes a picture Rachel posted yesterday of Dylan wearing one of Quinn's snapbacks.

She's in the middle of replying to Santana's comment on one of her pictures when Rachel enters, wearing nothing but a towel and wet locks. It takes everything in Quinn not to look up. She doesn't want to be rude, but Rachel's body is banging. She's got the best pair of legs Quinn has ever seen on such a little person, and she certainly didn't lack in the ass department either. Quinn bites her lip as Rachel gives her a small smile as she walks down the hallway to Britt's room.

Quinn can't _help_ but watch her go.

She makes a mental note to make her shower a _cold_ one as she pulls the shirt over her head and grabs a towel before making her way into the bathroom.

* * *

><p>Rachel's <em>certain<em> Quinn's staring at her legs as she exits the blonde's room. She peeks into Dylan's room and sees the child has yet to awaken. She pries open Brittany's door and rummages through her drawers for something decent to wear.

It's Friday, and Cruelvester doesn't make them wear their uniforms to and from school on Fridays. She pulls out a pair of Daisy Dukes just to mess with Quinn. She and Britt share the same bra size so she pulls out a black one and lacy underwear.

As she's dressing, her mind can't help but drift back to the conversation she and Santana had hours ago. Finn definitely crossed the line, but she didn't want him to get hurt or anything. He'd never been a 'think before you say' type of guy and often blurted out inappropriate things. He's honestly a nice guy, not very bright, but a nice guy. She knows she'll never forgive him for calling Quinn and Dylan a bastard, but he was her first boyfriend, her first everything.

Well not everything. Sex wise, Quinn has her virginity, but she doesn't know if she has Quinn's. She thought he would be her everything, but things never seem to go as planned. She hopes Santana keeps her claws to herself for the time being. If Quinn finds out, Frannie finds out, the basketball team, overprotective of her and Dylan, finds out and he's done for.

She shakes her head as she pulls the shorts on and applies cocoa butter lotion to her legs. She doesn't want to think about this right now. Quinn's got a game tonight against Carmel, their rivals. Everyone's going to be there and she's not letting anyone mess up Quinn's day. She doesn't rush because Fridays Judy is off and she watches Dylan while her parents are at school.

She applies her thick liner and eye shadow while letting her hair dry naturally. She loves the way her waves come in when it dries naturally. When she's done she smiles at herself in Britt's mirror as she pulls on a grey pullover. Her outfit is accompanied by grey socks that end just above her shin and her lucky cross necklace her father gave her for her birthday many years ago.

She frowns when she notices her shoes from yesterday wouldn't match this outfit. She makes her way out of Britt's room. She fully intends on rummaging through Quinn's endless shoe collection. She's certain Quinn owns more shoes than students that attend McKinley. However, she doesn't intend to walk in on Quinn in the middle of getting dressed.

She gets the full view of a perfectly sculpted back and the _Calvin Klein_ boxers because her jeans aren't pulled up all the way and settle about mid-thigh. She gaps, but Quinn doesn't hear her because she's too busy rapping along to Big Sean's _Control_ to notice Rachel's intrusion. Rachel is stuck in a trance; she can't help but lick her lips at the way her muscles flex as she pulls a red long sleeved shirt over her body followed by a _Chicago Blackhawks_ snapback. It's the same snapback Dylan had on yesterday when Rachel took a picture and uploaded it to her Instagram page.

Eventually the song is over and Quinn is staring at her expectantly, eyebrow raised as her hands are fixing her jeans. "Um, I was wondering if I could borrow a pair of shoes?" Rachel says, trying her hardest not to blush.

"You're actually _asking?_ Is this real life?" Quinn drawls, but nevertheless steps aside to let Rachel in. The little brunette catches a whiff of her _Axe_ body wash as she passes by. She ignores her teasing and bends over to search for the perfect pair of shoes to match her outfit of the day.

She's glad she and Quinn share the same shoe size. _That saying is so untrue,_ she thinks as she decides on a pair of freshly cleaned Concords. Girls say a boy's… non vagina… size depends on their shoe size. Not that she's thinking about Quinn's! She just can't help but point that out. _Oh god, let me stop before I make a fool of myself,_ Rachel chastises herself.

Quinn thinks the same thing as she glares at her lap.

* * *

><p>Dylan's dressed for the day, settled in Quinn's arms as she descends down the stairs. She's wearing a floral print dress with matching little shoes. She's resting her head beneath her mother's chin, hands fisted in the blonde's shirt. She's not an early riser and her adventurous night had been a long one.<p>

Quinn all but glares at Frannie lying on the couch, curled in a fetal position with her head buried in the crooks of her elbows. She briefly imagines herself and Frannie in a wrestling ring. She's standing on top of the turnbuckle with her arms spread eagle, Frannie lying just like that in the middle, and the crowd going insane as she jumps. She quickly shakes the thought from her head as she sets Dylan in her play chair thing and plops on the couch.

"Quinn! What the hell are you doing here?" Frannie says, startled out of her sleep. Quinn notices her red rimmed eyes. "Umm, I live here." Quinn retorts.

Frannie rubs her eyes so hard Quinn thinks she's actually trying to rub her eyes right out of their sockets.

Frannie doesn't think things could get any worse until she hears the front door open and Brittany trots in, followed by Santana carrying an Adidas sports bag over her shoulder. She groans. Santana sits in between them while Brittany heads straight for Dylan after uttering cheerful good mornings.

"Where's Too Short?" Santana asks as Quinn unzips her bag and peers inside. There are all kinds of chips inside. There are _Hot Fries, Hot Funyons, Hot Cheetos, Hot Munchies,_ and the spicy _Doritos._ There are also _Snickers, Kit Kats, Twix, Milky Ways, Hershey's, Crunch Bars, Skittles, and M&Ms._ "Upstairs." Quinn says as she reaches for a Snicker bar.

"The fuck you _think_ this is? Halloween? You besta lay down some dough." Santana scoffs, and slaps her hand away.

"You're going to make me pay?" Quinn asks in disbelief.

"You think this is a game? I don't give out no free candy." Santana glares hard enough to craft a hole through Quinn's forehead. _Ole broke ass,_ Santana thinks.

"San? Can I have a _Twix_?" Brittany asks sweetly, her chin atop Dylan's curly dark blonde head.

Santana smiles. "Sure baby." She hands her a snickers and presses a kiss to her forehead fondly. _Wow_, Quinn rolls her eyes.

Frannie watches her sister settle herself in between Santana's knees lovingly. She feels her heart constrict in her chest, but pushes down the bile in her throat. "Where's Billy?" Santana notices the tall girl's absence.

Frannie clenches her jaw, but answers anyway. "She's at home. She'll meet us at school."

She can't look into Santana's _knowing_ eyes.

* * *

><p>Rachel comes down moments later and Judy shoos them out of the house when the clock hits 7:45. Dylan is fast asleep before their even out the door. Santana doesn't mention Finn at all as their walking to the school. Rachel doesn't know whether to be relieved or worried.<p>

Brittany and Santana head over to the football field where the potheads are most likely smoking. They would be hungry and Santana had just what they needed. Frannie sulks toward her first period. Quinn couldn't help but notice her change of clothes and red skin; as if in the shower she tried to scrub Dallas's scent off of her body.

Quinn suddenly feels a weight on her back and nearly topples over. "Dude, tonight is going to be _live_." Spencer Carlin says into her ear. Quinn nods excitedly as she shrugs the girl off while their other teammates come into view.

She internally smiles as they greet Rachel and ask about Dylan. A basketball team is not just a group of players who are allies on the court, but they are a second family who look out for their own and others. They certainly did it with Britt, Santana, Rachel, Dallas, and even Frannie.

Spencer's wearing a black t shirt, black basketball shorts, black _Elite_ socks, and black _Adidas_ slippers. Her hair is tied up into bun and a binder occupies her left hand. She looks comfortable.

"Coach says she doesn't know if Bear will play tonight though. She's still kind of sick." Spencer explains.

Quinn purses her lips. Bear is their 6'7 center with an unordinary ability to shoot three pointers. She's a valuable asset to the team and without her, they'd have to move Kai, the powerforward to the center and play with a three guard line-up since the backup center is out with an ACL tear. They usually prospered with a three guard line-up, but they'd need Bear's size because the Carmel center was reportedly a 'monster' in the paint.

Quinn's heard their point guard is pretty good as well and that she's a little big to be a point guard so Quinn would have a bit of trouble guarding her.

"What's a three guard line-up?" Rachel questions.

Spencer answers her. "It's exactly what it sounds like. If she doesn't play, we'll have to move Kai to the center and use the backup point guard as the small forward since the small forward will be moved to the power forward. So me, Quinn, and the backup will start."

"Is that bad?"

Spencer shrugs. "We'll be smaller, but quicker. But our rebounding abilities will be somewhat at stake. I've heard their point guard is like 6'2."

"If that's the case then they'll probably make Spencer guard her and make me guard the two." Quinn offers.

Rachel nods slowly. She doesn't know the mechanics of basketball. She would like to learn them though. She listens intently to the two blondes' throw out possible matchup speculations.

The next thing Rachel knew is Quinn had Spencer in a headlock and they were wrestling in the middle of the hallway, much to other student's amusement. She sighs. They always were like this. "Ugh, I swear. It's like having two little brothers all over again." Ashley Davies leans against Spencer's locker, which is located next to Quinn's.

Her skirt is sinfully short as always and she's wearing an Escape the Fate cut off band tee, and dark boots. Rachel smiles at her politely. She doesn't know the girl all that well, but she's known around the school for her voice and she sometime hung around Santana. She's a rebel, daughter of a famous rocker girl from LA who moved out here with her eldest sister and youngest sister after their parents died. That's all she knew though.

"Ashley Davies." She sticks out her hand and Rachel looks at her face. She's cute, actually, really pretty with dark eyes and impossibly plump lips accompanied with a wide, white smile. Her hair is dark brown but there are streaks of red here and there.

"Rachel Barbara Berry." Rachel replies, grasping her hand.

"How's the kid?" Ashley asks as they continue to watch the two blonde's try and perform Mortal Kombat fatalities on each other. "She's perfect."

"That's awesome. I saw the pic you uploaded on Instagram this morning. Totally _adorable_ by the way. I can't wait until Spence and I have kids. We'd have some _bomb_ ass babies." Ashley says boldly.

Rachel chuckles. "Sounds like you've got everything planned."

Ashley winks at her. "Yeah, she wants to go pro and I want to start my own band. You know typical punk rock teenage rebellion. _Kill people, burn shit, fuck school,_ you know."

Rachel raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, you're not about that life huh." Ashley smiles sheepishly. "So, how many do you and Quinn plan to have? Because keep it up, and you'll have an army of heartbreakers."

Rachel blushes. "I – uh. We- we're not… I'm not…"

Ashley catches on quickly. "Oh you like dick? I don't really see the _issue_ here…"

"NO. We're just friends." Rachel says, trying to ignore the flush creeping up her neck.

"But you have a baby…" Ashley's confusion shows all over her face. I mean shit, if Spence had a dick, I'd probably never be able to walk straight again, Ashley thought, deciding to keep that to herself.

"Well, what if Spencer got you pregnant while you had a boyfriend?" Rachel challenges.

"Shieeet, I'd l_ock_ that ass down. I wouldn't let my 'baby daddy' mess with other girls, I don't care if we're together or not. The only time she'd be getting in would be from me or her left hand. Besides I love her and she loves me and I've got a lot of baby making music on my phone. We've already decided we want like 10. But we've got to do it the old fashion way. Not everyone has the luxury of having someone like Quinn." Ashley answers.

Now Rachel understands what Santana means when she says _Ashley keeps it a-hunned._ Despite the fact that she has no filter and she's cute and funny, Rachel finds herself liking the brunette already. Before Rachel can say anything else the bell rings. "That's the end of round 1 folks!" Someone yells, causing laughter to erupt from the crowd. "I'll see you at the game, Rachel." Ashley says as she grabs Spencer's hand.

Before she leaves she walks up to Quinn, placing a hand on her chest and leaning up on her tippy toes to whisper something in Quinn's ear. Quinn bends her head down to her level, but it snaps up almost as quickly. There's a flush on her cheeks when she glares at Ashley. Ashley chuckles loudly as she gives Quinn's cheek a fond tap before dragging Spencer away.

"She's very…_open_…" Rachel says as their walking to first period.

Quinn's blush returns as she lightly shoves Rachel in the shoulder.

Rachel smiles up at her.

* * *

><p>First period is pure <em>torture,<em> especially to Rachel. Their learning about the Holocaust and succeeds in making her very uncomfortable. She doesn't look at the video Ms. Roads is currently showing of life in the Holocaust, but she can hear the horrible stories of the victims. She glances around the room. Santana's discreetly selling chips in class; whenever the teacher wasn't looking she's tossing them to the designated student while they pass the money over. She almost laughs at Puck. He's taken the liberty to draw on eyes on his eye lids to make it look like he was awake, not wanting another referral for sleeping in class. Brittany's seemingly reading her book, but on closer inspection she's flipping through a _Playboy_ magazine. Everyone else was either watching the video, not watching the video, or drawing penises in the books or on the table.

She looks at Quinn. She's got her head bent, hazel eyes fixed on her phone. She's got earphones in her ears, but Rachel knew there wasn't anything playing. She's currently on the _Make it Rain_ app, using her thumb to throw money off of a board.

Quinn feels Rachel staring at her. She can see the discomfort in her posture. She figured the Holocaust was a touchy subject for her, despite her wanting to play _Wolfenstein,_ but videos of actual victims made her uncomfortable.

Quinn does something she's never really done before.

She slides the earphones out of her ears, sticks them in Rachel's ears, placing her arm around the back of Rachel's chair, and leaning close to her. She goes to _Netflix_ on her phone and hands it to Rachel.

Rachel's heart skips a beat as she unconsciously leans more into Quinn, so close she can smell her body wash and the fruitiness of Quinn's hair. She silently thanks her as she scrolls through the movie feed to find something interesting to watch.

Quinn smiles when the intro to _Breaking Bad_ comes on. She doesn't need the earphones. She can recite the entire first season from memory alone.

* * *

><p>Frannie almost punches Dallas again when she shows up to school almost an hour late. Her nose is bruised and she has her hair up in a bun. Frannie knows she wore it up so she her ears are visible. She's wearing a blue fleece shirt with the sleeves rolled up at her elbows, revealing her loud tattoos. The bright tattoo of an Aztec sun gleams like a beacon on the side of her neck. Her jeans aren't ripped and she has own bright white <em>Air Force 1s<em>.

She's got all of her piercings in. Frannie couldn't count how many she had on one hand. She had one on her eyebrow, four beneath her lip, two on her tongue, and there were tiny one's going up her ears.

She doesn't intend on talking to Frannie, but when the blonde shoves her in her chest as hard as she could, she's got her attention. She sticks her hands in her pockets and lifts her chin. She glares down at Frannie with as much malice as she can muster. It's not very much because once she looks into those cold blue eyes, all her resolve just _cracks_.

Frannie shoves her again and she winces when the heels of her hands come in contact with the bruises of their wild night. "You're not going to say anything, _Angel?_"

Dallas rolls her eyes at the use of her full name. Frankly she doesn't even know where the nickname _Dallas_ came from. She wasn't even from Dallas, but somehow the name stuck. "What do you want me to _say_?"

Frannie is about to retort when she notices something on Dallas's neck. It's a hickey, but it's not hers. It's much too fresh. She eyes her shoulders closely and almost growls when she sees fresh scratch marks on her golden skin. She glares hard. "What the _fuck_? You were with someone just when you were neck deep inside _my_ pussy?" She almost yells.

She gives a half-hearted shrug, her eyes reflecting almost boredom. "Like _you_ said, we're just fucking. So why does it matter who _I_ fuck?"

She's speechless and shaking with anger. Dallas ventures into dangerous territory when she leans down and whispers into Francine's ear. "And she _knows_ what she _wants_."

"I bet she's not crazy like _me_. I bet you like that." Frannie spits, venom dripping off of every word.

Dally's eyes flash and suddenly her eyes aren't so green anymore. They've darkened considerably; they seem almost brown in anger. "She's _nothing_ like you."

Dallas shoves past her, but Frannie grabs her wrist and presses herself into her firm body. She grabs the front of her shirt and pulls her close, trapping herself between Dallas and the wall. Dallas isn't looking at her. She's looking off to the side with conflicted eyes. She wants to cry, she wants to scream, and most importantly she wants to find that bitch that had the audacity to dig her nails into Dallas's skin, marking what's _hers_. She buries her nose into Dallas's chest and thumps her forehead against her collarbone. Dallas doesn't hug her like she might have done before, but she rests her head atop Francine's and closes her eyes. Frannie reminds herself that _Angel_ isn't hers.

And she isn't _Angel's._

* * *

><p>Rachel's standing at her locker, eyes glued to her phone. Quinn's convinced her to download the <em>Make it Rain<em> app, and she's already addicted. Her back is turned, so she doesn't see Finn rapidly approaching her.

He marches forward with determination in his big brown eyes, but just as he's about to call her name he freezes.

He suddenly turns back around and almost runs back to where he came from because _Santana's_ standing at the end of the opposite hallway with her arms crossed, _glaring_ at him like he's the most disgusting thing on the planet.

He's smart _enough_ to know to back off for now.

* * *

><p>After 5th period ends, the <em>real<em> Friday begins.

Everyone's heading to the gym for the pep rally. There's one every Friday, and the main attraction is the girls' Varsity Basketball team. They're really the only team worth celebrating anyway. Quinn's mega excited because there's a rumor they've booked _Beca Mitchell_, the best female DJ like, _ever_, to mix at the celebration.

She's full on laughing when she spies Spencer and the team racing towards the gym with all the cheerleaders following behind them with most of them sporting a player's number.

She tries not to blush when she spies the number _42_ painted on either side of Rachel's cheeks.

The gym is so packed, she's positive it's reached its maximum capacity. Quinn and team are waiting in the hallway, buzzing with excitement as they watched the cheerleaders do their insane routine. She watches with fascination as Rachel is tossed into the air and completes a complicated toe touch.

The rumors are true because Beca Mitchell is standing underneath the court mixing her number one single _ Titanium _with _Bulletproof_ and the crowd is cheering so loud, she can't hear herself think.

When the cheerleaders are finished they step out of the way and Brittany's suddenly running towards the middle of the floor at full speed. She's quit the cheerleading team in favor of starting her own dance team. They are a mix of Drill, Dance, and Stepping called the _McKinley Fire_. Sylvester wasn't happy about her sudden resignation, but she didn't stop her from doing what she loves most.

And they were _sick._

Once their finish, DJ Titanium takes the mic. "Now make some noise for your McKinley _TITANS_!"

The basketball team runs out, much to the crowd's delight. Quinn's in the front and Spencer's by her side as always. Quinn and Spencer initiate their usual pre-game routine that makes the crowd cheer even louder. They run in unison and then burst into a cartwheel simultaneously while doing complicated back flips until they reach the end of the opposite key.

It took them years to prefect this routine and it's _flawless._

As the team meets back in the middle while Beca plays the _Cali Swag District's Teach Me How to Dougie._ It's old but gold and everyone's doing it. Figgins puts everyone to shame as the spotlight shines on him. He doesn't see Santana walking up and down the bleachers holding up bags of chips and a wad of cash sticking out of her bra.

Quinn catches Rachel's eye and winks. Rachel returns the gesture as Ashley's band comes on and serenades the crowd with _Falling in Reverse's_ _The Drug in Me is You._

When the pep rally reaches its end, the _Cheerios_, the _McKinley Fire_, Ashley's band, _the Lost Girls_, and the team stand in the middle for one huge photo.

Spencer kisses Ashley's cheek as Quinn inconspicuously wraps an arm around Rachel's shoulders and pulls her into her chiseled body.

Quinn's never been very _sneaky_ and Rachel's a hugger.

* * *

><p>It's seven thirty and it's game time.<p>

Quinn's dressed in her second favorite uniform. Its borrowed the _Miami Heat's White Hot_ themed jerseys and has called itself_ White Titan_. It's pure white, including the number, the logo, and her name.

She's got on a pink arm sleeve, knee sleeves, socks, and her shoes have pink soles in honor of Breast Cancer awareness. The whole team's wearing bright pink and Spencer's shoes are bright enough to be seen miles away.

"This is our game. Titans on three, _1, 2, 3, TITANS_!" Coach yells as the team howls its approval and their sprinting towards the gym.

Prior to their routine the _Cheerios_ stand by the gym's entrance military style, hands behind their backs, chins high. There's rows of eight on either side of them and the _McKinley Fire_, led by Britt are entertaining the crowd.

Quinn almost _blushes_ as Rachel winks at her.

* * *

><p>Santana's sitting in the bleachers with Ashley, Judy, Dylan, and Frannie. Dylan's bouncing in anticipation on her grandmother's lap and Frannie has her chin resting in her hand. Dallas is here, but she's refused to sit with them.<p>

Santana _doesn't_ care.

Judy's confused.

But they would all enjoy the game.

* * *

><p>"<em>You're mine<em>." Carmel's point guard spits in Quinn's face. She's big, but not as big as they've rumored her to be. She thinks she's intimidating Quinn by towering over her and Quinn's tiny, but she's fearless.

She lifts her chin in defiance. "Good luck with that."

She snarls and retreats to the other side for tip off. Spencer comes up to her and presses their foreheads together. They stay like that for a few moments before they give each other a bro hug. The hand shake they do reminds the crowd of Ace and Luffy's. Everyone's watched _One Piece._

Bear's playing so the rebounding battle will be fair.

When the ref tosses the ball into the air and its tipped into Quinn's awaiting hands. Shit goes down.

* * *

><p>It's the second quarter and McKinley's up by eight. Quinn's got 10 points, 8 assists, and 5 rebounds and she's not even really trying.<p>

Onyx, the Carmel point guard, is all talk. She's got a decent jumpshot, but she's too big and slow to keep up with Quinn.

Quinn's setting up Spencer and the rest of her teammates every time down. She knows Rachel is watching her intently, like she does every game, and it makes her excited. She's got a play for Spencer and she signals it with her right hand. Onyx is trying the drive into the paint, but the ball is swatted away like a fly when she attempts a layup over Bear. Quinn's got the rebound before Carmel can even set up their defense.

She sees Spencer running up the sideline and she's smiling.

She does a fancy street dribble behind her back that makes the crowd _oh and ah_ and she tosses the ball softly in the air.

Spencer does the rest. She jumps with her powerful legs and catches the ball long before it has time to come down. She arches back and pulls the ball as far behind her head as she can for a Back Scratcher before _destroying_ the rim.

The crowd's frenzy is _deafening._

They stomp on the bleachers in unison. _The Fire_ and _Cheerios_ begin to dance and the Carmel Coach calls a timeout. Spencer slaps Quinn's chest so hard she's sure she heard a bone crack.

* * *

><p>Out of the time out, Carmel's called a Pick and Roll play for Onyx. Quinn sees the center running over to her out of the corner of her eye and she instinctively steps closer to Onyx. She doesn't notice the ill intent in Onyx's eyes as she glances at Spencer.<p>

Spencer notices and tries to tell Quinn it's a slip screen, but it's too late. The center doesn't set the pick, but she inconspicuously gives Quinn a _little_ push forward.

But unfortunately Quinn's _too_ smart of a player.

She reaches around Onyx's body and pokes the ball loose as she tries to blow by. She's on the fast break, but Onyx catches up to her with her long limbs.

The worst happens when Quinn goes up for a contested layup, knowing Onyx isn't stupid enough to go for a pump fake. Onyx's anger gets the best of her and she _throws_ herself at Quinn. Quinn curses as her legs become entangled with the other guard's.

They both hit the ground hard, lying in a crumbled heap. The ref calls a foul on Onyx. Onyx rises from the ground and begins to walk away.

But Quinn's _not_ getting up.

Rachel's on her feet in an instant. She watches as Spencer shoves Onyx so hard, she falls to the ground. Onyx's teammates retaliate and suddenly thing get really bad really fast. Santana's flying down the stairs before anyone can stop her and Carmel's own fans are getting riled up. Judy clutches Dylan to her chest as things begin to get out of hand and Frannie's _screaming_ into her phone, but she doesn't know to whom.

But Rachel cannot take her eyes off of Quinn's prone form because Quinn still hasn't got up.

_"QUINN!"_

She runs over because Quinn isn't responding and she feels sick to her stomach because Quinn doesn't have _red_ streaks in her hair.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh, what a dick move, Onyx. Santana and Spencer are coming for that ass. I've been in many sports brawls; this chapter is inspired by my most recent one. The next chapter could be out later today depending on the reviews<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**So I've just spent the last month in Juvenile Hall under the accusation of Breaking and Entering and stealing a $550 _Alienware_ Gaming PC. First of all, I'm a console gamer… I'm pretty sure if I wanted a gaming PC I'd buy one… Stay High, my friends.**

**Chapter 9. Ball is Life**

* * *

><p>Quinn grits her teeth in pain, clenching her fists in anger. There's a rather persistent throbbing in her groin and her shoulder. She sits up slowly, almost crying out when her shoulder screams in protest. She looks at her left shoulder and almost vomits at the odd angle in which it sticks out.<p>

It's bruising rapidly, and looks as if the arm bone has popped from its socket. When she feels a liquid trickle down her forehead, she's suddenly aware of the shallow cut somewhere above her left eyebrow, but nothing compares to the pain in her shoulder that makes her entire left side feel numb. She cradles her forearm to her chest with great difficulty.

"_Oh my god,_" Rachel's voice is shrill, and she looks almost as nauseous as Quinn feels. She's suddenly kneeling on Quinn's right side, frantically gesturing to Quinn's mother, who's looking down at her daughter with worry in her green eyes.

Quinn's eyes scan the court for Onyx. She's standing not far off, arms crossed over her chest, and a shrill look of indifference on her face. She meets Quinn's eyes, and her lips curl into a cruel smile. She briefly glances at Rachel before she speaks, loud enough for the entire gym to hear.

"Is that your girl? Hey baby, why don't you come and get a _real_ woman instead of some _wannabe?_"

Quinn's used to this sort of abuse from opposing guards, but it doesn't make the constant insults hurt any less. She snorts quietly, shutting her eyes tightly as she tries to ignore the constant pain.

Onyx grunts as she's shoved to the ground for the second time that night, but instead of the blonde from earlier, it's a dark haired Mexican girl yelling obscenities in Spanish. The coaches are trying to keep the other players from engaging into further conflict and there's a few security guards trying to get the rambunctious crowd to settle down. Onyx glares at her, but she doesn't seem to be intimidated in the slightest. "You have a death wish, you Mexican piece of shit?"

For a moment, Onyx is almost certain she sees steam erupt from the girl's ears. "_Mexican_?! Bitch, I'm half _Puerto Rican,_ one quarter _German_, and one quarter _Black_. I'll beat your ass!" Santana seethes before a slender blonde is suddenly pulling her by her waist, away from the guard. Onyx simply snorts as she pulls herself off of the ground for the second time. She's strong for someone so small.

Rachel glares a hole into the back of Onyx's head as Judy and Frannie descend from the bleachers, but her attention returns to the blonde, who grunts in pain with even the slightest of movements. Dylan's big eyes are fixed on Quinn as she sucks on her tiny fists in Frannie's embrace. "Goodness, Quinn." Her mother gasps, ghosting her fingers along Quinn's busted shoulder. She looks to her youngest daughter's forehead, examining the cut above her left eyebrow. She purses her lips when she realizes it's probably going to need a few stitches. She's underestimated the impact of Quinn's fall. She waves over the school's nurse, who's been desperately trying to reach Quinn the entire time.

She presses a smooth white rag to Quinn's forehead, dabbing gently at the cut while she dials 911 on her iPhone. Judy's running her fingers through Quinn's sweaty locks, whispering words of comfort while Rachel's absently running her hand up and down Quinn's back soothingly. Oh, how she wants to march over and teach that Onyx girl a lesson!

She knew it would only cause more trouble so she's decided against it, but she hopes Karma will teach her a lesson about dirty plays. "Is she okay?" Quinn's teammates and her coach are suddenly surrounding them, worried looks plastered to each and every one of their sweaty faces.

"It definitely looks like a dislocated shoulder, but we won't know for certain until she's had an X-ray. I'm calling an ambulance now." The nurse says, to the coach mostly. They look on solemnly at their captain, some looking away when they saw her shoulder.

"Don't worry about her Quinn, she's just a hater." Spencer spits as she joins the group, kneeling by her best friend's side. "The refs are discussing on whether it's a flagrant foul or not."

Coach bristles, her lips drawn into a thin line. "It had _better_ be a flagrant!"

Quinn doesn't say anything. She just bites her lip and stares at her lap with distant eyes. Rachel reaches for her hand, but she swats it away. Rachel tries not to feel hurt and blames it on Quinn's injuries.

* * *

><p>It's about fifteen minutes later when a few medics rush into the crowded gym and shoo everyone except Quinn's mother away from the blonde. A female medic inspects her shoulder while an older male prepares a stretcher. Rachel reluctantly stands off to the side next to a still seething Santana. Brittany's got her face buried into Santana's hair. She hates when someone close to her gets hurt. Actually she hates when anyone gets hurt…<p>

When Quinn's being wheeled out of the gym she makes eye contact with Spencer. The blue eyed blonde nods ever so slightly and rushes back to her team as the game resumes. When Quinn does look at Rachel, she smiles softly and whispers a silent 'thanks.'

Judy squeezes her shoulder as she follows the EMTs. "Well what are we waiting for? Let's go!" Santana snarls, grabs Britt's hand, and starts heading for the student parking lot. She cradles her niece to her chest as she locks eyes with Angel. (She's found she's not fond of her nickname.) Dallas gives her a look that says, 'I'm still pissed at you, but there's more important shit going on right now.' She returns the look as they follow her sister and Santana. Rachel glances at Sylvester, who nods her head in allowance. She scampers off after her friends, completely ignoring Finn as he tries to approach her.

* * *

><p>"Well sweetheart, you've really done a number on your shoulder. It's dislocated and it has a torn ligament that connects it to your collarbone." The doctor, a very pretty black woman with kind green eyes tells Quinn as she examines the results from the blonde's X-ray. The shirtless blonde doesn't reply, just keeps her eyes fixed on her hands. Dr. Kyla Aaron glances at Quinn's mother, worry etched on her soft features.<p>

"I've got to set it, sweetheart. It's going to hurt. Here, bite on this." She gently pries the blonde's jaw open and slips a clean rag in between two rows of perfect white teeth. Quinn clamps down on it and briefly glances at her Dr. Dr. Aaron gives her a reassuring smile as she moves beside her injured shoulder. Judy grabs her daughter's hand.

"One, two, three!"

On her list of most painful experiences, this goes directly above being kicked in the groin and getting slapped by Rachel. She holds back a scream as she clamps down on the rag hard. Dr. Aaron pats her sweaty back, giving Quinn a wide smile. "It's okay, sweetheart, it's all over now."

When Quinn recovers Dr. Aaron begins to do her stitches. Quinn stares at her ruined jersey that's draped across her lap. They had to cut it to get to her shoulder… She stares at the gleaming '42' and her last name printed in proud letters on its back. Her mother doesn't notice how hard she's gripping the jersey, but Dr. Aaron does.

* * *

><p>"She called me a <em>Mexican<em>! Off all the things in the world! No offense to them, but come on! I don't even _look_ Mexican." Santana's eyebrow is twitching in annoyance.

Dallas rolls her eyes. "Yeah, it's like being called a place you've never even been to just by the way you speak."

Frannie snorts at that, twirling a lock of her niece's hair between her thumb and forefinger. Rachel's currently wearing a hole into the ground with all her pacing, her cheerios skirt fluttering in all directions. Brittany's getting dizzy just by staring at it.

"Wait, you're _not_ from Texas?" Santana pauses, the previously twitching eyebrow suspended above her eye. "I don't even know your real name…"

Dallas chuckles and Frannie curses the warmth that spreads through her chest. It's deep and filled with honey, her dimpled cheeks and perfect teeth on display. "Not even close. I'm from New Orleans. Does the name Angel King ring a bell?"

"Yeah she's in my Math class. Oh. _OH_." Santana realizes.

"You just assume everyone with a southern accent is some white-trash hillbilly from Texas?" Dal-Angel says, but with amusement in her tone. Their all sitting in the ER waiting room, and have been for about an two hours.

"No, just _you_." Santana says with a smile. "I know your Creole though."

"How?"

"We _shared_ answers on the _CAHSEE_ remember?"

The rest of their chatter ceased when Judy appears with a heavily bandaged Quinn trailing behind her. Quinn's head is bent and refuses to make contact with anyone, but Judy assures them it's all the medication they've prescribed her. As Judy leads them to the Pharmacy to pick up the rest of her prescription, Rachel falls in step with her blonde counterpart. She's wearing a very loose white V-neck with a red sling on her injured shoulder. She's limping very slightly and there's a thick, white gauze over a brow, but she's still so breathtakingly beautiful it almost takes Rachel's breath away.

She unconsciously hugs Quinn's right arm to her chest and when Quinn doesn't seem to care she hugs it tighter.

* * *

><p><strong>I know its kinda short, but I haven't written in quite sometime! I promise the next chapter will be out very soon. Thanks<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

_**Here's the next chapter! Thanks again for your support! Stay high, my friends.**_

_**Chapter 10. G.O.A.T**_

* * *

><p>Upon entering the Fabray house, Quinn immediately trots up the stairs to her room and shuts the door behind her, leaving the others staring after her worriedly. Judy sighs softly as she deposits her purse on the couch and tiredly rubs her temples, the doctor's words playing in her head over and over again.<p>

_She might need surgery._

Quinn's injury is more severe than they initially thought, falling on an outstretched limb plus the added weight of another heavily muscled individual spelled disaster for said limb. Luckily, her shoulder was not broken, only dislocated with several torn ligaments. However, said ligaments connect the shoulder to her collarbone, and the impact severed those ligaments, leaving her collarbone slightly deformed.

Putting the bone back in place had eased some of the pain, but it will be horribly sore for a few days, and will take weeks to months to heal. Judy glances at her purse, seeing Quinn's ruined jersey peeking out from inside the red leather. She runs gentle fingers over the soft fabric, feeling a wave of nostalgia sweep over her.

Basketball is Quinn's entire_ life._

Her youngest daughter has been playing ever since she could walk. She lived, breathed, and loved the sport more than anything. Judy often wakes in the middle of the night for a midnight snack, sauntering tiredly down the stairs and into the kitchen. When she peeks through the curtains above the sink, her full lips curl into a genuine smile because she sees Quinn clad in her pajamas, shooting a basketball from impossible angles on the court she'd begged her mother to buy.

Judy doesn't have the heart to tell Quinn to put the ball away and come inside. She knew it helped with the young blonde's insomnia, tiring her out immensely until sleep claimed her the second she returned to her bed.

An injury like this can change Quinn's life as well as her ability to play. If the shoulder didn't heal right, Quinn wouldn't be able to play like she used to before the injury occurred, especially since Quinn's left-handed. Judy closes her eyes and leans back against the soft cushions of the leather couch, crossing her legs and folding her arms neatly across her abdomen as she ponders methods that would assist Quinn's recovery.

The girls all shift uncomfortably, feeling the effects of Quinn's devastation swarming around the quiet house. Brittany's lively blue eyes have darkened and her dampened spirit on display as she clutches onto Santana's hand. Santana's unusually quiet, her beautiful face is troubled and she appears deep in thought.

Dallas's hair is mused; the effect of having ran her hands through it so many times, a nervous habit. She runs her fingers over the tattoos on her wrist, another nervous habit. Frannie distracts herself by idly playing with Dylan, but even the child senses the tense atmosphere and begins to whimper in discomfort.

Rachel clears her throat, "I'm going to take Dylan with me."

"I think that would be best. She needs time to herself for a few hours. She'll come around." Judy agrees, rising from the couch and standing in front of Rachel. She kisses her granddaughter on her slightly flushed cheeks. She pulls Rachel into a strong, but gentle embrace. "Will you return in the morning?" Rachel nods. "Excellent."

Frannie smiles at her niece before she hands her over to her mother. Brittany hugs them as well, Dallas gives Rachel a gentle smile and ruffles Dylan's hair, and Santana meekly nods her head in farewell.

With one last glance at the staircase, Rachel retrieves her keys from the table she left them on earlier and exits the Fabray house. "I'm going to go too." Dallas says a few minutes after Rachel's car can no longer be heard.

"I'll walk you out." Frannie says.

Judy looks at Santana. "I suppose you're staying the night?"

Santana gives a tiny smile. "You might as well let me move in."

Judy chuckles as Frannie desperately shakes her head. Brittany giggles and pulls Santana by her hand up the stairs. She gives her older daughter a peck on the cheek and briefly hugs her companion as she to retreats to her domain.

Frannie follows Dallas outside, her cherry red '_72 Camaro_ gleams brightly under the florescent street lights. She twirls the keys around her middle finger idly, shivering slightly as the cold night air assaults her bare arms. When she reaches her car, she leans against the driver's side door, staring at Frannie expectantly. The little blonde looks like she wants to say something.

"I'm sorry for punching you. You just make me so mad sometimes." Frannie says, flexing her sore hand unconsciously.

"It's cool. I mean I did call you a bitch, I deserved it." Dallas says apologetically.

"No, you did nothing wrong. I am a _bitch._ I treat you like shit; I just don't understand why you put up with my shit." Frannie replies, feeling somewhat sentimental. The whole situation with her feelings towards this girl was emotionally exhausting, but she just couldn't imagine herself being happy without her.

Dallas reaches out and hesitantly pushes Frannie's bangs out of her face so she can see her eyes. "You're my best friend, dude. You do dumb shit, I do dumb shit, and together we do even dumber shit. But no matter what I'm going to love and be there for you even if you constantly berate my tattoos and music choices."

Frannie laughs, "It's not my fault you choose to listen to devil shit."

"_Immortal Technique_ and _Necro_ aren't devil shit. They talk about real life shit."

Frannie gives her an impeccable eyebrow. "So '_Kill People, Burn shit, and Fuck school'_ is real life shit?"

"_Oddfuture_ are visionaries who make fun of rappers and provide their own philosophical views on life."

"So killing Bruno Mars is a philosophical view on life?"

"He needs to go."

Frannie slaps Dallas's arm as they both share a laugh. "Go home, loser."

Dallas gives her a wide, dimpled smile as she climbs in her car. She rolls down the windows and deliberately plays the _Oddfuture_ track that talks about killing Bruno Mars as she speeds off. Frannie merely shakes her head as her heartwarming smile slips from her lips and she walks back into the house, head down, and eyes watering.

* * *

><p>Quinn sits on her bed, her face buried in her right hand. Every single shot of pain that surges through her shoulder a reminder of what happened. She sniffles softly, feeling tears leak down her cheeks. She bites her lip to keep the sobs at bay, her entire form shaking with despair.<p>

She knows her season's over, but she doesn't know how many seasons she'll probably miss with this injury.

_She might need surgery._

The doctor's words replay in her mind over and over again.

_This isn't happening to me. This can't be happening to me!_ Quinn desperately hopes this is all just a bad dream, a paranoid figment of her imagination. There were _scouts_ at that game! Some who were looking at the seniors they'd like to recruit, but all eyes were on _her._ After all, it was not often a sophomore was the starting point guard and team captain of a very capable Varsity team.

_Derrick Rose, Brandon Roy, Greg Odin, Alana Beard_… All the NBA and WNBA stars who had their careers cut short because of injuries and lingering injuries invade her mind and her paranoia grows.

_Kobe…_

She's full on crying now when she thinks of one of her favorite players. _He came back, but a few games later he went down with another injury to that same previously injured leg. Brandon Roy hurt his knee, tried to come back but suffered the same injury that ended his promising career. Alana Beard is back, but she's still suffering from her injury! Magic Johnson's career…I haven't even gone to collage yet, how can it be over so quickly?_

She cries quietly, but strong enough to where it's hard to breathe. She tries to calm herself, not wanting her anxiety to get the better of her. Onyx's cruel smile flashes into her mind, Rachel's horrified look, Spencer's determination, and her team's crestfallen expressions. She clenches her fist. A new wave of anger surges through her.

She blinks open her red rimmed hazel eyes, staring directly at the beautiful face of Lisa Leslie, the greatest female basketball player ever. Her brown eyes seem to bore into Quinn's, challenging her, taunting her. Quinn growls to herself as she shakes her head.

"I'll get through this! I'll come back stronger and better than ever. There's no one who'll fucking stop me. I'll be the greatest of all time." Quinn whispers to herself.

She looks at all the posters in her room.

_Kobe Bryant, Magic Johnson, Lisa Leslie, Scottie Pippen, Dennis Rodman, Yao Ming, Shaq, Dr. J, John Stockton, Larry Bird, Hakeem The Dream, Patrick Ewing, Shawn Kemp, Dianna Turasi, Elgin Baylor, Clyde Drexler, Kareem Abdul-Jabar, Bill Russell, Robert Parish, Kevin McHale, and the greatest…Michael Jordan._

Quinn flexes her hand on her injured shoulder, feeling the stiff muscles twitch ever so slightly. "Its _not_ ever." She whispers, staring at Michael Jordan.

* * *

><p>Rachel's father meets her at the door as he takes his granddaughter. He's heard about what happened to Quinn as he's thoroughly disgusted. He sets a big, beefy hand on her shoulder.<p>

"She'll be back."

Rachel looks up, tears in her eyes. "How can you be certain?"

Leroy glances at the TV, where the San Antonio Spurs celebrate their fifth championship.

_"Never_ underestimate the heart of a champion."

* * *

><p><em><strong>This was simply the aftermath, There's a lot more to come. Next chapter, Quinn learns what happens to Onyx, She and Rachel grow closer, The team tries to find a way to survive without their leader, Finn becomes more persistent, Alex is up to something, Santana's causing trouble, and Dylan begins to show signs of something nobody was expecting.<strong>_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Chapter11. You'll Be Alright**_

* * *

><p>"You've been crying."<p>

Her voice is surprisingly soft, gentle, and lacks the usual sarcastic undertone to it. Her hands still, the soft white towel she was running through her damp locks ceases to move. Quinn's eyes are red-rimmed, swollen. Her nose is red, cheeks slightly flushed, and she looks just like a child, or a kicked puppy. But beneath those swollen lids and pain filled eyes, burns a fire. Fran can see it clearly, bright as day.

Quinn looks down at her older sister with an unreadable expression. Fran gently runs her hands through her sister's damp hair, smoothing golden blonde curls away from her face. Fran offered to help Quinn take a shower; she'd been unable to do it alone with her injured shoulder. Quinn got over her initial embarrassment and was extremely grateful to be out of her sweaty basketball gear. She's currently dressed in a pair of thin camouflage sweats and a black t-shirt with the word 'Nope' written in bold white letters across her abdomen.

"You know you'll be alright, right?" Fran says, using her finger to lift Quinn's chin. Quinn doesn't say anything, but continues to stare at her intently. It vaguely reminds Frannie of the devastated look a child would give if you told them Santa Clause doesn't really exist. "You're Quinn Fabray, future WNBA Superstar. You're going to get scholarships from every school in the nation, and they'll retire your jersey even after the first game. Little kids will write your number on their faces and when you ask them who their favorite player is, they'll scream 'Quinn Fabray!' You'll be the number one draft pick and we'll move to a big city where your face will be on every billboard! You'll make mom so proud, all of us. Dylan's going to be so proud of you."

Quinn finally smiles. It's one of those face-splitting, ear to ear, megawatt smiles that makes her eyes light up and her nose crease. It's infectious and Frannie finds herself smiling as well. She smiles impossibly harder when Quinn gives her a strong, one-armed hug and pulls her into her taller frame.

* * *

><p>Quinn's sitting on the couch flipping through channels when the doorbell rings, but before she can even get up, a half-naked Santana literally jumps down the stairs and jogs toward the door. She's only wearing a black bra and red boy-shorts, and Quinn doesn't think that's the appropriate attire to answer anything unless it's a phone. "This better be my pizza." Santana says.<p>

"Who orders pizza at-" Quinn peaks at the clock, "-8:49 in the morning?"

"_I_ do bitch, keep on talking shit and_ you_ ain't getting none." Santana snaps, opening the large wooden door. She clicks her tongue in disappointment when she sees it's Rachel and not a scrawny, teenage boy holding boxes of delicious, _Niecey's Pizza_. She contemplates closing the door, but Dylan's cradled into the little brunette's chest and she decides against it. She walks away, leaving the door open for Rachel and struts back up the stairs grumbling to herself.

"Hi Quinn, how are you feeling?" Rachel says, setting her Louis Vuitton bag on the table and sitting on the far end of the couch. Quinn smiles, reaching over and ruffling her kid's curly blonde hair. "Fine, thanks."

She chuckles as Dylan swats her hand away, voicing her annoyance with a soft chirp and continues to glare at Quinn with bright hazel eyes.

Dylan's a weird baby.

Both Quinn and Rachel and all of their friends and family who've met her know that. She's uncharacteristically quiet for a child her age, and her eyes seem to be filled to the brim with intelligence, such intelligence one so young should not possess so early on in her life. She wasn't quite crawling yet, but she could easily maneuver herself into positions where mobility is easier. Neither one of them could really explain it, but Dylan was clever.

"Quinnie's hurt, so don't thrash around too much, okay?" Rachel tells their child, who stares at her for a moment before bringing her hazel gaze back to Quinn. Quinn internally shrugs; she finds she doesn't even care at this point what Rachel calls her. Dylan somehow manages to escape her mother's clutches and crawls/stumbles into Quinn's lap, carefully situating herself into a comfortably position and snuggles into her chest like a newborn kitten. Quinn kisses the top of her kid's head and strokes her pudgy cheek. "I like her dress."

Dylan's wearing a beautiful red dress with white roses decorating it. A white ribbon is tied around the waist, matching her sparkling white Airforce 1s. She's got a real white rose tucked behind her ear. Their kid is absolutely beautiful. "I do too; her grandpa picked it out while he was out shopping yesterday."

"Leroy or Hiram?"

"Hiram. If we'd have let daddy pick out an outfit for her, she'd be wearing cargo shorts and a Dodger's cap."

"What's wrong with the Dodgers?"

"Quinn."

Quinn chuckles and flexes her fingers on her injured arm. It's pretty stiff and throbs a bit, but it doesn't hurt nearly as much as it did the night before. Rachel knows Quinn's probably bored. It's a Saturday morning and usually Quinn would be at the park playing pickup games with Spencer and the locals or lifting weights in the backyard, both options not available in her current state.

"Quinn."

"Yes?"

"Why aren't you wearing your sling?"

"What sling?"

"The sling the doctor told you to wear."

"Oh, that sling."

"Yes, that sling."

"…"

"Well?"

"It makes my arm stiff. Its fine, I don't move it much."

Rachel glares at Quinn, and Quinn can't help but notice how similar Rachel and Dylan's glares are. Wait, can babies even glare? She thought to herself. Well, if they can, Dylan does it. Rachel and Quinn share a relatively comfortable silence, watching Tim Duncan's finals interview on ESPN. Dylan starts to get bored, fidgeting in Quinn's lap and inadvertently kicks her. "Ouch!"

Rachel chuckles, slipping her hands underneath her arms and lifting her from the older blonde's lap, settling her on the soft carpet near her feet where a few of her toys lay. "Getting kicked right there isn't funny." Quinn says, raising an eyebrow at the little brunette.

"She kicks me all the time." Rachel replies.

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?" Rachel mocks, playfully raising her own brow, mirroring Quinn's expression.

They somehow manage to fall into a somewhat intense staring contest and that's when Quinn finally notices.

_Is she flirting with me?_

Before Quinn can question Rachel's motives the doorbell rings and before either of them can actually move, Santana runs down the stairs yet again, clad in the same attire as earlier. She's got twenty bucks folded between her fingers and a smile playing on her lips. "About time, I'm fucking starving."

She opens the door and stomps her foot in frustration. "Please tell me you applied to a ghetto pizza place and have a box of greasy, yet delicious pizza in that bag."

Spencer gives a dopey, Finn-like grin, but somehow manages to pull it off better. Her eyes linger on Santana's chest, and she clears her throat. "You know _Niecey's_ likes to take their time. But nah, I'm here to see Quinn."

Santana leaves the door open and runs back up the stairs. Spencer takes off her hood and closes the door behind her. She smiles at Rachel and her bestfriend, ruffles Dylan's hair slightly, and seating herself on the couch across from them. She's clad in a burgundy and yellow Cleveland Cavaliers hoodie, yellow basketball shorts, and a pair of worn Kobe's. Quinn knows she's on her way to the park to play for a few hours. "Sup?"

"So, how bad is it?" Spencer asks quietly.

"I'm done for the season and it might need surgery…" Quinn says just as quietly.

Spencer sighs in disappointment, feeling angry about the whole situation all over again. She tries to lighten up the mood. "I've always wanted to play the Point."

"If you're playing Point, we're doomed." Quinn points out, smirking slightly.

"You're just mad because you're required to pass and I'm not." Spencer shoots back, briefly eyeing a slightly confused Rachel. "Point Guards are the best dribblers and are required to set up their teammates for easy or easier shots. A Shooting Guard, like me, does exactly what the title says, which is to shoot that ball whenever you deem ideal."

"Spencer doesn't know how to pass. When she plays 2k, the controller automatically disables the pass button." Quinn says.

"You're just mad because you're too short to dunk and you're jump shot is nasty."

"_My_ jump shot looks better than half the girls _you've_ dated."

"_Your_ jump shot makes me emotional."

"_You_ have no handles."

"You can't rebound."

"Do_ you_ know what an assist is?"

"Yes,_ I_ can assist_ you_ at finding a nonhazardous jump shot."

"That's why the Cavs suck."

"The Lakers are the worst team in the WNBA."

"You look like Gabrielle Christian with a nose job."

"You look like a pregnant Dianna Agron."

Rachel looks on confused because they went from sentimental ballers to spewing insults that made absolutely no sense at all. It goes on for about ten minutes before Spencer finally throws up her arms and discretely gives Quinn the finger when she's sure Dylan isn't looking.

"Anyway, Onyx got kicked out after you left. Coach is pushing for a season suspension."

Quinn simply shrugs. She honestly doesn't care what happens to Onyx. That's not to say she isn't angry about what happened, but she's not that player who would wish misfortune or injury on another. Spencer eyes her captain intently, gauging for a reaction but could find only a disturbing indifference. "She's just a hater. She's probably a Heat fan." Spencer decided.

"Or a Brazil fan."

After a few jibes about the Carmel Guard, Spencer rises from the couch and gives her captain a farewell handshake. She tells Rachel to 'stay short,' and gives Dylan a big, sloppy kiss on her pudgy cheek before making her way out of the house.

It's almost an hour later when Santana's pizza arrives, currently in the clutches of a heavy-set African American girl with dark, kinky curls and thin eyebrows set in an intimidating scowl.

* * *

><p>"Watchu mean you ain't order no pizza? I was told to deliver it to this address." She sasses at Frannie, who's looking at her like she's lost her damn mind.<p>

"I just told you no one ordered it! Who orders pizza this early?" Frannie questions, rubbing her temples tiredly. It's way too early for this.

"Man, I don't know what goes through white people's minds! Quit playing, and take the damn pizza. People got shit to do." She snaps.

Before Frannie can make a comment, Santana shoves her out of the way. "Where the fuck have you been? I ordered this bitch an hour ago!"

"If you were so concerned with timing, maybe you should've came and picked it up, or went to Little Caesar's." Tiffany, according to her name tag, replies.

"The fuck? Why I gotta pay for it AND come and get it?" Santana shakes her head, practically tossing the twenty at the girl and snatching her pizza. "Keep the change, fucker."

"I was going to keep it anyway, fake ass Naya Rivera." The girl concludes, swaggering back to her car muttering something about rude people.

Santana slams the door. "She's lucky I didn't go all Lima Heights on her ass.

"Isn't Lima Heights a gated community?" Fran says, glaring daggers at the Latina as she sets one box down on the coffee table and tucks the other against her hip.

"Why are you so concerned?"

Fran makes a beeline for her room in an effort to stop her homicidal intentions.

"Y'all can have that box. It was two for twenty. Deuces." Santana concludes as she exits the living room.

Quinn fist pumps internally. Free food was the best kind. She opens the box and grabs a napkin, placing a cheesy slice on it. Rachel internally gags at the amount of cheese and grease that coats the Italian delicacy. "Wait, I thought you were forbidden to eat anything that high in fat and calories?"

Quinn shrugs, taking a bite and chewing before replying. "I'm hungry though."

She's ready to take another bite, but before she can even get it to her lips, Rachel grabs her wrist. Quinn raises an eyebrow. "You want some?"

"No, but I suggest eating something that won't give you diabetes."

"…like…?"

Rachel gently grabs the slice of death from Quinn's grasp, and to her surprise Quinn lets her. She tucks it back into the box before taking the whole box and setting it on the kitchen table. She washes her hands and ties a cream colored apron around her waist.

_Is she going to make me something…?_ Quinn can't help but wonder as she eases herself onto the soft, carpeted floor with her kid and idly watches her fiddle with a rubix cube Fran left on the table the night before. As Rachel prepares breakfast in the kitchen, Quinn scrolls through the channels aimlessly, becoming bored all over again.

_What the_…? Quinn's eyes widen considerably. She briefly glanced away from the TV to make sure her daughter wasn't trying to shove the cube down her throat and she was met with quite the surprise.

"Rachel…come look at this!" She gestures with her non injured arm. Rachel furrows her brows and sets the carton of eggs on the sink and practically skips over. When she's near the table she crouches to Dylan and Quinn's level, and when she studies the cards she gasps. She looks at Quinn for an explanation. "I didn't do it…she did. I couldn't do these things to save my life."

In between Dylan's tiny fingers, is a completely _finished_ Rubix cube. And it_ wasn't_ finished before.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Shoutout to my new 'friend,' Indicaa for literally barging into my life and forcing me to sit down and write! Check out her shit, she's got skill. Haven't wrote in awhile, but damn, I think I've still got it.<em>**


	12. Chapter 12

_**Chapter 12**_

_She's Doing it on Purpose_

_Smug…_

Smug is the word Rachel would use to describe the look in her daughter's eyes, if babies can actually be smug. But once again, Dylan proves she's not a normal baby. The kid, this tiny baby, only five months old, just solved a puzzle in less than fifteen minutes that most people couldn't solve in an entire lifetime.

Rachel gently takes the cube from Dylan's tiny hands. The child doesn't fuss. She doesn't cry. She simply watches her mother inspect her work with almost expectant eyes. Rachel twirls the multi-colored cube in her hands, furrowing her eyebrows in both amazement and confusion.

She briefly tells herself that her mind is playing tricks on her, but it was Quinn's exclamation that brought her over here in the first place. The older blonde has her lips drawn into a charming half-smile as she curls her fingers under Dylan's chin softly, and leans down to brush her lips over her forehead.

She's impressed.

"This is amazing," Rachel whispers, "Absolutely_ phenomenal_."

"What's absolutely phenomenal?" Judy's sing-song voice asks as the eldest blonde glides down the stairs, clad in a fluffy pink bathrobe. Her light blonde hair is neatly combed and pushed back from her bright green eyes, skin still slightly damp from her recent shower.

"Oh, pizza," She says, grabbing a nearby plate and taking a slice from the box.

Rachel and Quinn glance at each other. She'll never believe them, but it's worth a shot. Quinn sticks out her right arm towards Rachel, and the little brunette wraps her small hand around her wrist and gently pulls her to her feet. "Mom, you're never going to believe this." Quinn starts as she walks over to her mother and kisses her cheek in greeting.

"They finally canceled the Kardashians?" Judy asks hopefully, pouting when Quinn shakes her head.

"Look what your granddaughter did!"

One cue, Rachel pulls the small multi-colored cube from behind her back and holds it up in front of the older blonde's face. Judy studies it for a moment, her lips pursed and a delicate golden brow raised in confusion. She's looking at it as if she expects it to burst into flames or turn to solid gold in Rachel's hand. "That's cute." She dismisses entirely, taking another bite of her pizza and leaning against the countertop.

Quinn has a strong urge to knock that slice of pizza out of her mother's hands, grab her by the front of her robe, and shout in her face, "Your granddaughter, who's five _months_ by the way, just solved a damn Rubix Cube in less than fifteen minutes and all you have to say is that's _cute_?"

But Quinn's not stupid. Judy would grab her by the ear, injured shoulder be damned, throw her over her lap, and whip Quinn like she's a bad child.

"Of course you wouldn't believe it if we told you. So we'll just show you." Rachel says, dismantling the perfectly aligned colored squares. Quinn grabs her mother by her wrist and leads her over to the middle of the living room where Dylan plays with her AC130 model gunship Quinn had gotten for her when she was three months. Unlike most children's toys, Dylan's plane is still in perfect condition. She didn't particularly like putting things except her pacifier or bottle top in her mouth.

She briefly looks up from her toy at her mother who kneels before her, holding out the now scrambled puzzle. "Come on sweetheart, show grandma what you can do." She says, gently placing the cube into her tiny fingers.

Judy watches with mild interest, trying not to moan out loud at the sheer deliciousness of the pizza in her hand. Quinn and Rachel are both giddy with excitement when the child slowly takes the puzzle and stares at it briefly, but their excitement is short lived when Dylan gives a childish squeal and puts the cube in her mouth.

Quinn and Rachel deflate like popped balloons.

"I'm already aware of how utterly adorable your child is. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a very important conference with that box of pizza." Judy says, delicately tapping Quinn's shoulder as she breezes past the two gaping teenagers in a whirlwind of coconut shampoo and cashmere body wash. She grabs another slice of pizza and a bottle of wine from the wine cooler near the table and exits the living room.

Quinn's confused. Rachel's a bit disappointed. But Dylan seems _amused._

Quinn swears to all things holy Dylan's playing with them. Because she's staring at her parents with innocence, false innocence in her almond shaped greenish gold eyes. She takes the cube out of her mouth and resumes playing with her AC130, ignoring her mortified parents.

* * *

><p>"What kind of medication did they give you? Must be some good stuff, because what you're saying makes no sense." Santana drawls later that following Monday. All the girls, minus Dallas and Rachel, are walking down the crowded hallways of McKinley High. Dylan's with her grandfathers for the day and Judy went to the spa with a few co-workers.<p>

"I'm serious. She did it!" Quinn says, wincing when her injured arm brushes against a student as he rushes passed them. Santana trips him with an evil smile and laughs when he does a perfect scorpion upon impact to the marble floors.

"I believe you, Quinn." Brittany chirps, her blue eyes were genuine and her lips were quirked into a gentle smile. Quinn smiles gratefully at her older adopted sister. "Why would she be making this up?"

Santana rolls her eyes as Frannie not so discreetly voices her irritation at the lack of a certain Southern presence in their group. "Because Quinn's full of shit and most grown men can't solve that shit. How the hell does a _baby_ do it?"

"I swear. And when I tried to show my mom, she just acted like she had no idea what she was doing! She's a genius I tell you." Quinn says, rubbing her face tiredly. She doesn't know why she even bothered telling them. It was completely unbelievable.

"Maybe she's shy and the attention makes her uncomfortable?" Brittany offers.

"Or she didn't do it at all? Look Tubbers, I advise you stay away from medication for a while."

Quinn just growls in annoyance and makes her way to the gym to talk to meet with her team.

* * *

><p>Ashley bursts out into hysterical giggles as Rachel explains what occurred over the weekend.<p>

The tiny brunette in her flashy Cheerios uniform crosses her arms over her chest in annoyance. She hates being laughed at, even if the entire matter was completely amusing. She's standing in the locker room, watching unamused as Ashley draws a penis on Madison, another cheerio's, locker.

"That's cute. Did she also part the Red Sea?" Ashley says, putting the final touches on the penis._ For a lesbian, she's awfully good at drawing those_…Rachel thinks to herself. "Would I lie?"

"I'm a lesbian who has a talent for drawing penises," Ashley retorts, "Nothing makes sense."

"What are you even talking about?" Rachel says with a valiant stamp of her sneaker clad foot. A sneaker clad foot she wants to shove up Ashley's-

"Hey, you're the one who came up to me and claimed her baby, who can't even crawl yet, solved a Rubix Cube in less than thirty minutes."

"Fifteen."

"Excuse me?"

"She solved it in less than _fifteen_ minutes, not thirty."

The door slams shut as Ashley breezes out, leaving a very annoyed Rachel with a sharpie drawn penis glaring at her from its position on the lockers.

"What are you looking at?" She snaps at it, just as a freshman girl enters the locker room. Upon seeing the Head Cheerio yell at a remarkably drawn penis, the girl slowly backs away and walks swiftly down the hallway.

* * *

><p>"WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S<em> GONE<em>?" Hiram screeches to Leroy, who's frantically searching around for a certain tiny baby.

Leroy glances at his husband, "I turned my head for one second and she was gone!"

"BABIES JUST DON'T _DISAPPEAR_, YOU DOLT."

"This one_ does_!"

While the two grown men frantically search the house, Dylan lays her head onto the soft carpet underneath the couch, her tiny stature able to squeeze underneath it and closes her eyes for a short nap. She was unable to sleep with Leroy's constant shouts at the television and giggles to herself as she drifts off into dream land, her AC130 tucked under her arm.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Haha, don't forget to R&amp;R.<strong>_


	13. Just Do It

Quinn stifled a yawn as she reclined against the bleachers, crossing her legs and rubbing her eyes tiredly. Her shoulder had begun to bother her during second period and had taken her medication during the passing period. It made her terribly drowsy. She'd barely managed to stay awake throughout the day.

She was currently in the gym watching the cheerleaders perform a difficult looking routine under the critical eyes of Sue Sylvester. She walked up and down the baseline yelling obscenities through her trusty bullhorn. Quinn's teammates also occupied the bleachers, fiddling with their phones or talking animatedly amongst themselves as they waited for Cheerios practice to come to a close so they could start a scrimmage.

Coach couldn't host practice today. She had to deal with a home emergency so the team took it upon themselves to make sure they were ready for tomorrow night's game against Dorsey. Quinn couldn't help but admire the way the Cheerios performed. They were simply outstanding. They moved with such grace and agility, and were perfectly in synch, Rachel especially. Quinn gave a internal round of applause as Rachel flawlessly executed a toe-touch before landing into a perfect middle split.

"Damn, you'd never think she just had a baby," Spencer said as the routine ended, "Especially _your_ baby."

The team snickered and Quinn tried not to roll her eyes, finding the action childish and disrespectful. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Spencer stared at her. "Face it Quinn, you're a dick."

Quinn's cheeks flushed as the team burst out in hysterical giggles, earning a smoldering glare from Coach Sylvester. They quickly ceased laughing and cleared their throats, rubbing the backs of their necks sheepishly and shifting in discomfort. When Sylvester resumed yelling at her squad, they fell into silent laughter once more. "Excuse me?"

"You're like the dude from twilight. You know, the one who's always silent and brooding?"

"Spencer, go to sleep. You have no idea what you're talking about." The small forward, Andy chimed in, rolling her eyes. Quinn was about to thank her friend, but she held up her hand to signal she wasn't finished. "You are a dick though."

"That's exactly what I said, dumbass." Spencer said, slapping the back of the brunette's exposed neck, not so gently. She shot to her feet and clambered down the bleachers as Andy glared at her with murderous intent, following swiftly. They ran out of the gym in a whirlwind of obscenities and yelps of fear.

"How is Dylan by the way?" The Power-forward, Kai asked sweetly.

"She's..." Quinn paused, contemplating whether or not to tell the girls about the recent discovery of her daughter, but gouging the reactions earlier, she decided against it. "She's amazing." She said, feeling a proud smile form on her lips.

"Do you have any pictures?" The Center, Bear asked excitedly. Quinn nodded as she dug her phone out of her pocket and scrolled through her pics. She handed her phone to the front court players, chuckling when loud 'awes,' erupted from their mouths.

"She's so fucking cute! She looks just like you." Kai squealed.

"Lil' Quinn is too cute," Bear agreed, chuckling at a picture of Dylan wearing one of Quinn's Lakers snapbacks. "But it's the Miami Heat all day baby."

"You mean the Cryami Beat?!" Spencer yelled, picking up on the conversation as she flew by with an enraged Andy still hot on her heels. "It's A Cavs nation!" She said, running out the back doors. Quinn wondered when Andy would realize that Spencer's running and circles and she could cut her off anytime... Maybe that's why _she_ was team captain.

"You are disgraces! All of you! Get out of my sight before I get sick all over my new track suit!" Sylvester yowled at the exhausted Cheerios who were all sprawled out on the gym floor panting like dehydrated dogs. Rachel was the only one left standing, bent over with her hands on her knees and her chest expanding rapidly as she tried to catch her breath. Sylvester snorted indignantly, storming out of the gym grumbling to herself.

The girls pulled themselves off of the cold gym floor, leaning heavily against each other as they lumbered to the locker room.

"Get well soon, Quinn." Kai said, patting her captain's shoulder as she slung her Adidas sports bag over her shoulder.

"Don't worry, we'll defend the Point from Spencer with our very lives." Bear saluted playfully. Quinn smiled gratefully at her teammates as they jogged to the locker room to change into their basketball gear. Quinn was stretching when she noticed Rachel had yet to leave the gym. The little brunette was bent over at the waist, rubbing the back of her thigh with a small grimace.

Quinn slowly walked over to the little brunette, stifling another yawn as it threatened to escape her lips. She stopped just in front of her. "Are you okay?"

Rachel looked up slowly, biting her lip. Quinn did a quick double take. Her hair was tied into a messy bun, damp strands hanging in her equally damp face. Her toned body glistened bea neath her cutoff NYADA T-shirt and athletic boy shorts. Quinn couldn't look away as a drop of sweat rolled down her chin and disappeared into the middle of her slightly visible cleavage.

"Yes, however, I'm almost certain I pulled a muscle during my last toe touch." She said, rubbing said muscle.

"It happens to me sometimes. I know a trick to keep it from being sore. May I?" Quinn asked. Rachel nodded her head as Quinn gently led her over to the bleachers. The blonde sat down on the first one and spreads her legs a bit, pulling the little brunette in between them. Rachel blushed, putting her left hand on Quinn's shoulder to keep from kneeing the blonde. Quinn looked at her for permission once more, and at Rachel's nod, she placed her right hand on the back of her thigh, a few inches bellow her ass. Biting her lip once more at Quinn's boldness, she tried to hold back a moan of pleasure. Her thighs had always been a very sensitive place for her.

Quinn's warm and nimble fingers caressed the back of her thigh, soothing the strained tendon with unexpected gentleness. Her brows were furrowed in concentration, her thumbs pressing into her soft, damp flesh firmly, but painlessly. Rachel sighed in content, vaguely remembering that faithful night that changed her life. That Friday night at Dallas' birthday party, she'd been dancing with the blonde, and like this present moment, Quinn had been caressing her thighs.

She hoped the sweat running down her body would mask her sudden wetness.

Quinn didn't realize how intimate her actions were until she heard Rachel suck in a breath, her legs slightly trembling. She suddenly paused her movements, lifting her head sheepishly to apologize for her actions, instead she almost choked on her own saliva.

Her eyes were lazy and half-lidded, her cheeks covered in a thin layer of red dust, spreading to the tips of her ears. Her bottom lip was stuck in between two perfect rows of sparkling white teeth. Quinn suddenly had the urge to take that bottom lip in between her own.

She licked her lips almost shyly. She could take on girls twice her size in a basketball game and wouldn't even bat an eyelash, but here she was, shy as a newborn babe beneath this stunning brunette cheerleader. Her eyes briefly flick to her Adidas sports band around her wrist before returning to molten brown. She's always been more of a Nike girl.

_Just_ _do_ _it_.

She brings her hand to the back of Rachel's neck gently, bringing down her head and pressing their lips together softly. Rachel moaned into the kiss, tangling her hands in golden blonde hair as their lips moved together in perfect synch, an intimate dance of hidden attraction. Moving her hand from the back of her neck to her lower back, Quinn suddenly pulled her closer, causing the brunette's knee to inadvertently graze her groin. It wasn't very hard, but It was enough to cause the blonde to gasp and Rachel to suddenly jerk back. "I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you?" She cried out, trying to step out of Quinn's slight embrace.

The blonde held onto her and shook her head. "No, you're fine. Quite literally." She said, eyes sparkling mischievously. Rachel laughed, twirling a strand of Quinn's hair between her finger. She kissed her once more, gripping her perfect jaw I'm between her hands before stepping out from between her legs. "I'm going to take a shower, I'll be quick." She said, waving to the blonde as she exited the gym with a noticeable bump in her step. Quinn absently licked her lips as she leaned against the bleachers once more, frowning when her jeans pressed uncomfortably against her groin. She hadn't even noticed her arousal before! She groaned as she lightly banged her head against the bleacher, thinking about picking corn out of James Harden's beard and eating them.


	14. Of Cheerios and Ballers

Rachel showers and dresses quickly, slipping on a pair of ripped, whitish blue skinny jeans, a grey pullover, and a pair of Jordan "Space Jams." She ran a brush through her silky brunette locks a few times before tying the damp bundle into a tight bun. She deposits the brush into her bag, retrieves her phone and personal belongings from her locker, and with a quick glance in the mirror behind her, she goes on her way.

She bids farewell to the many girls still hanging around in the locker room, playfully whipping each other with their towels or gossiping within the shower stalls. The entire locker room smells of perfume and scented body wash, lotion, and hairspray. Clothes were strewn all over the marble floors; bras hanging out of partially closed lockers, and Nicki Minaj's _Anaconda_ blasted from a portable speaker settled on top of someone's locker.

The tiny brunette can't stop thinking about the kiss. Quinn's lips and hair were so soft, and she smelled amazing, like Suave body wash and a hint of Nautica Voyage. Unlike Finn's clumsy and uncoordinated hands, Quinn's were soft and nimble, caressing her flesh with such gentleness it made goose bumps erupt all over her skin.

She bites her lip as she exits the locker room, ignoring the weird look the janitor gives her as she leans against the lockers, waiting for the other cheerleaders to finish up. Her mind was consumed with thoughts of the blonde point-guard. She wasn't certain what the kiss meant or actually was. A long awaited action or something that happened in the heat of an intimate moment?

She sighs as she pushes open the red gym doors. Quinn's teammates are yelling at each-other, as usual. She couldn't understand how this constantly bickering and rambunctious group of girls could be so in synch with each other in actual games, but the total opposite outside of them. A tall brunette looks about ready to castrate Spencer, who's cowering behind a very exasperated looking Quinn.

"I don't understand what the problem is," Spencer says slowly, "You deserved it."

"You must not know the meaning of a neck because that didn't call for a neck." The brunette growls, an evil smirk conjuring on her lips as she drags her thumb horizontally along her throat in a, 'you're dead,' motion.

"Guys, calm down. Honestly, it's like dealing with the football players." Quinn says, flicking her hand in irritation.

"We have a football team?" The tallest girl asks, causing the others to chuckle.

Quinn sighs, grabbing her bag from in between the bleachers and slipped it onto her right shoulder. She also retrieves a worn Spalding basketball, tossing it to the tallest girl as the Varsity girls' second unit entered the gym, shrugging off their bags and lining up along the baseline in preparation to pick teams for the scrimmage. "Don't let _Spencer_ play the point." Quinn advises as she steps over to Rachel as they take their leave.

Rachel giggles as a loud, "Yes, ma'am," echoed through the gym.

An irritated, "Fuck all of you," followed the two girls as they exit the gym through the back doors. The walk to Rachel's Mercedes was quiet and slightly awkward. The brunette could see the blonde nervously picking at a loose thread on her red Polo crewneck. Santana's black 64 Impala or Dallas's Charger weren't in the nearly abandoned lot, so the brunette assumed they were already at Quinn's or indulging in plans of their own.

"Look Rachel." Quinn says suddenly, and Rachel feels her heart skip several beats. Is this the part where Quinn told her she didn't mean anything by the kiss and she's sorry it happened? Rachel bites her lip; she honestly wanted it to happen. She wanted it to happen since the day they stayed up late playing videogames after Finn's oafish outburst almost a week ago.

"I don't want you to think I did what I did to just do it." Quinn says, despite the fact that she did in fact do what she did in honor of her motto. She genuinely wanted to kiss the brunette. Motto or no motto, she wouldn't have kissed her if she didn't want to. "I did it because I wanted too."

Rachel looks up at the blonde, who looks at her with sincerity in her pretty eyes. She steps a little closer to the blonde, their shoulders and forearms touching with every step they make.

"I did too. I've wanted to kiss you ever since we played that weird motorcycle game in your room a few days ago, you know." Rachel admits shyly, never once breaking eye contact.

"Really?"

"Really, you're the prettiest girl I've ever met, but you're so much more than that."

Quinn's chuckle is deep and honey rich, sending shivers of warmth through Rachel's stomach. Quinn bravely leans down to press the faintest of kisses to the top of Rachel's damp hair making the smaller girl smile warmly. "You're not so bad yourself."

"Charming."

* * *

><p>The first thing Rachel notices about her father, Leroy, is that he's acting very peculiar. He's nervously fiddling with his fingers, his dark eyes darting back and forth rapidly as if he's expecting something to jump out and bite him. Sweat pours down his face as if he's ran a marathon, staining his white Polo beneath his neck and his armpits.<p>

"H-hey baby," he starts nervously, "What are you doing here?"

"Um, I live here." Rachel says slowly, trying to step into the house, only to be blocked by the tall, dark-skinned man. Quinn chuckles quietly, amusement dancing in her bright hazel eyes.

"How was school?"

"Fine."

"How was practice?"

"Challenging."

"Did you do your homework?"

"If you'd kindly step out of the way, I can get started on that…"

"Who needs homework anyway?"

Rachel narrows her eyes. "What are you hiding?"

Leroy gulps. "Hiding? I'm not hiding anything. Halloween's not here yet. What can I possibly be hiding?"

"Um, okay. Can we see our daughter than?"

"…"

"Daddy?"

"…"

"Daddy!"

"Huh?"

"I said, where's _Dylan_?"

"She's here…"

"Okay, so can we come in?"

"Of course…"

"So can you move?"

"..."

"Ugh! Excuse me!"

With her tiny stature and quickness, Rachel's able to out maneuver her father. She snorts to herself. _And He claimed have been a football player_… A thousand watt smile immediately lights up her beautiful face when she spies her daughter sitting in front of the couch, fiddling with her toy war plane while sucking on her pacifier.

Dylan's big, glossy hazel eyes sparkle with utter joy as her parents come into view. She sticks out her tiny arms, demanding to be picked up and squeezed with love and affection. Rachel playfully runs over, scooping her baby girl up and peppering dozens of little kiss all over her face. She doesn't notice her father's sigh of relief.

Quinn's heart melts a little as she steps over to her child and her mother, ruffling her kid's hair as she always does when she sees her. Dylan's toothless, dimpled smile and chubby rosy cheeks has the older blonde swooning internally. She wishes her shoulder wasn't immobilized, otherwise Quinn would be prancing around the living room with Dylan clutched protectively in her hands, singing the Circle of Life from the Lion King.

She's Quinn's perfect little Simba.

Rachel's eyes are sparkling too as she stands close to Quinn, wearing her trade-mark award-winning smile. Quinn kisses her baby girl on her forehead and lets her right hand settle onto Rachel's hip, smiling as she treasures her little family.

* * *

><p>Frannie tiredly rubs her eyes as she sits on Dallas's bed. The older girl briefly stepped out, not telling the blonde where she was going or how long she'd be gone. She originally offered to take Frannie home, but she declined, claiming her house was too loud.<p>

Dallas's house is probably louder. She lives with her hippy father and equally hippy four older sisters. The house was always filled with the gentle rumble of heavy bass reggae and old school hip hop, marijuana wafted from every room in the house, often shrouding the halls in a thick cloud of haze.

She waits for about an hour before the girl finally steps into the room. Frannie's curled up on the bed facing the wall, so she doesn't see what the girl holds in her arms. Dallas smiles widely as she gently crosses the room, her red and white Nike slippers making no sound on the soft floor.

"Frannie, I got you something." Her soft accented voice coos gently in the blonde's ears as she leans over her, black hair that smelled of rain and shampoo mixing with her pale blonde strands. Frannie groans to herself, curling into a fetal position as she drifts in and out of consciousness.

She plans on ignoring the dark-haired girl for leaving her unattended for so long, but after she feels a sudden wetness on her cheek, she recoils in disgust. _Did she just fucking lick me?_ She thought, ready to tear Dallas a new one.

But what she sees immediately melts all the anger and annoyance built up inside.

A small, yet long-limbed puppy stares back at her, its big brown eyes filled with curiosity. Its fur is very short, but silky soft and smooth, carrying a rich brown and tan color with it. Its got a red ribbon wrapped loosely around its neck, its bobbed tail wagging furiously in excitement. Its fat paws clumsily get caught in the dark-haired girl's sheets as it tries to make its way to Frannie. Frannie's speechless as the tiny puppy clambers onto her lap and falls in between her legs with a small yelp.

"She's a Doberman, but she's a total sweetheart. Her name's Chop, but you can change it if you want." Dallas said with a grin, watching the blonde carefully lift the puppy from in between her legs. She nuzzles Frannie's hands, licking her palms and nipping on her fingertips.

Dallas leans over and presses a gentle kiss to her friend's cheek, laughing when the puppy jumps up and tries to lick beneath her chin.

"Happy birthday, Fran."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Quinn and everyone else told Frannie Happy Birthday earlier in the chapter even though her birthday's not mentioned. Get ready for some intense, fluffy, disgustingly cute, but utterly adorable family time next chapter. Maybe it'll come out even faster with the right amount of motivation. *Cough* R&amp;R *Cough*<strong>_


	15. New Era

"Dylan."

A humorous giggle.

"Dylan..."

A chirp of utter enjoyment.

"Dylan!"

The child nearly fell over, she was giggling so hard. Her eyes twinkled with mirth. Deep, impossibly deep dimples nearly swallowed her rosy cheeks whole as her lips split and formed a dazzling toothless smile. "You're so silly." Dylan giggled again, her tiny hands resting on either side of Quinn's jaw, gripping the golden strands of hair that rested on her cheeks.

Rachel mentally 'awed' in her head at the tender and affectionate scene before her. Quinn was laying on the floor of her bedroom with Dylan sitting on her chest. Despite her injured shoulder and overall drowsiness, she insisted on playing with her while Rachel worked on her homework.

Dylan had fascination with Quinn's voice. Why, no one could be entirely certain. When Quinn would call her name, the child would either burst into a fit of giggles or excitement. Other times she would doze off on the blonde's chest, lulled to sleep by her soft tones and gentle laughter.

Maybe it was because Quinn never really raised her voice?

It was true. She's never truly heard Quinn get loud with anyone. Even swearing, which she very rarely did, was whispered and often went unnoticeable. She was surrounded by noisy students and her rowdy teammates quite often, but she always remained her usual calm, composed, soft-spoken self.

Rachel's the total opposite. She wasn't afraid to voice her displeasure or approval. She was a little firecracker with a voice that could put most to shame, even some professional musicians.

"Dylan," Quinn cooed again, her voice noticeably lower, "I love you."

Dylan, almost shyly, ducked her head beneath the blonde's chin. Her quiet giggles pierced the warm, vanilla scented air. Quinn rubbed her daughter's back as she continued to mumble sweet nothings. When Rachel was finished with her homework, she joined the two blondes on the floor in front of her bed.

She retrieved Dylan's toy plane from the dresser and handed it to the toddler.

"What do you say?"

Quinn rolled her eyes as Dylan gave a small chirp. "Close enough."

As Dylan played with her AC130, her parents indulged themselves in idle conversation.

"She's not even all that great." Rachel mumbled.

"Have you heard her sing?" Quinn replied.

"She's a decent singer at most."

"She's ho... She's pretty okay."

Rachel raised her eyebrow as Quinn trailed off uncertainly.

"She still looks like she's twelve or something. I feel like a creep calling her sexy or hot," Quinn explained with a earnest chuckle. Rachel snorted, unamused.

Quinn held back a laugh as she rolled onto her stomach and pulled herself into a sitting position near Rachel's leg. She leaned over and pressed her lips to her forehead. Rachel sighed in content, curling her fingers into the collar of Quinn's shirt and pulling her closer.

Despite the numerous kisses they'd shared, Quinn wasn't sure exactly what they were or what they were getting at. She didn't even know if Rachel and Finn were really through. After all, they'd broken up and reunited multiple times before. She didn't want to be Rachel's 'sidechick.' She truly did have feelings for the girl.

She cleared her throat. It's been some time since she's even seen Rachel with Finn. She often caught the boy staring longingly at Rachel in class, in the halls, passing periods, and Cheerios practice, but Rachel ignored him entirely. Whatever he said to her must have been devastating. Quinn decided she would question Rachel's intentions before they went any farther.

"Rachel."

The brunette lifted her head from the crook of Quinn's neck. "Hmm?"

"Are you and Hudson really finished?"

Rachel was silent for a few moments. She took a deep breath before answering. "Yes."

She cursed silently as tears rolled down her cheeks. Despite Finn's overall incompetence and the tendency to act before thinking, he'd been her longtime boyfriend, her first love. They'd been chasing after each other since freshman year, but after what he said, she was certain them being broken up was the best thing. She'd never forgive him for cursing her daughter. Or Quinn. It wasn't as if Quinn forced her into anything.

They were both equally responsible and they could never regret Dylan's birth. Their 'mistake,' was the greatest thing to happen to them, WNBA and Broadway would always come after Dylan. Quinn contemplated on asking what it was that Quinn said that could've been so stupid it ended their relationship for good, but if it was truly that bad, Rachel would've told her right?

Quinn suddenly reached up and gave the brunette a good noogie, drawing forth a squeal of protest. "Quinn!"

Rachel growled indignantly as she gently tackled the blonde, sitting on her stomach as she ruffled Quinn's already tousled hair. Quinn laughed, using her superior strength to keep the brunette at bay. Dylan chirped as she waved her plane around. "Dylan, your mommy's lost her mind. Bite her, simba." Quinn huffed.

Dylan simply stared at Quinn as she continued to wave her plane around, completely ignoring her parents. She tended to do that when she was occupied. Seeing no back up from her little cub, she took matters into her own hand. She twisted her body so that Rachel ended up beneath her as she covered her mouth with her hand and used her hips to keep her from squirming. Rachel licked the palm of her hand.

"Gross. Rachel really?" She said, wiping her hand on Dylan's bib. _That's what you get for ignoring me_, Quinn thought as Dylan tried to shuffle away. She almost yelped in pain when teeth suddenly sank into her flesh where her neck met her shoulder.

"I said for Dylan to bite you, not for you to bite me." Quinn growled in exasperation as Rachel leaned back and admired her work.

"Red looks good on you." She said slyly.

She froze as Quinn leaned down and brushed her lips over hers, her grandfather's dog tags hanging from the chain on her neck brushed against the heated skin of Rachel's throat. Just before Quinn could slip her tongue into her mouth, she turned her head to the side.

"Not in front of Dylan!" She said firmly.

Quinn chuckled as she rolled off of the tiny girl, extending her hand. An idea suddenly popped into her mind. "Do you want to go to the mall or something? It's only four. Dylan needs a trim anyway." Quinn said as she tugged on her daughters overgrown curls. Rachel perked up at the idea.

"That sounds great! Let me just find something to wear."

Quinn shook her head as she undid her sling. "You look perfect." She said as she reached down slowly and pulled Dylan into her arms. It's been just over a week since her injury and her shoulder was a lot better. It still ached from time to time, but she had been given the okay to go without her sling by her mother. She shuffled Dylan carefully onto her right side.

K/C-42

Rachel parked her black Mercedes into an available parking spot twenty minutes later. Quinn got out and unbuckled Dylan from her car seat as the brunette retrieved her purse from the backseat. "Do you want me to get her stroller?" She asked.

Quinn shook her head. "I've got her, right Simba?"

Dylan looked around the loud new place with wonder in her eyes. She's never been to the mall before and all the new sights and sounds intrigued her. She snapped her head left and right, trying to take them in all at once. The little family entered the North Lima Mall. It was three stories tall and had a bowling alley, movie theatre, and over a hundred stores. Since it was the only mall in Lima, it was frequently crowded with shoppers and cliches of ditching teens and soccer moms.

Despite Quinn's assurances, Rachel changed her outfit anyway. She was wearing a frilly blue skirt, a sheer black blouse with blue floral patterns, and gorgeous black pumps. Quinn wore the same outfit she wore at school; a grey polo sweater, ripped blue skinny jeans, and a pair of freshly cleaned Airforce 1s.

Dylan had been changed into a dark blue Calvin Klein dress with shoes identical to Quinn's. She pointed at random things, chirping excitedly as she watched a pair of twins about her age riding in a toy train.

Rachel dragged them into Victoria's Secret as soon as the store came into view. Quinn was immediately bombarded with strong perfume and women of every race, age, shape, and color. As Rachel skimmed through a pair of lingerie and went to the dressing room to try them on, Quinn sat on the bench not far, bouncing Dylan on her lap as they waited.

"She's so cute. Is she yours?" A beautiful black woman with long curly hair and kind dark eyes asked as she took a seat next to Quinn. Quinn nodded, smiling fondly at Dylan.

"Aww, how old is she?"

"She'll be six months in a few days."

The woman hummed her approval. She briefly assessed Quinn. Tall, athletic, blonde, extremely good looking, and good with kids. She opened her mouth to say something else, but she was cut off by a gorgeous little brunette woman. "We can go." She said, pointedly glaring at the woman.

"Come to mommy, Dylan." She cooed.

Quinn handed her daughter over to her mother, but before she could get up. Rachel held Dylan in one arm and firmly grabbed Quinn's chin and planted a firm kiss to her lips. "Let's go, baby."

Quinn politely smiled at the beautiful woman before following the mother of her child out of the store. Perching Dylan on her hip, she grabbed Quinn's elbow as they walked towards Supreme Cuts. "You didn't find anything?"

Rachel pursed her lips. "Nothing interesting."

Supreme was a little hair salon specifically designed for toddlers and small children. It was slightly crowded. A few women with their children sat in the chairs waiting for their child's turn. They sat down for about fifteen minutes bickering playfully while entertaining Dylan before they were called. Their stylist was a tall, flamboyant black man with impossibly long black hair and rippling muscles.

He smiled joyously as the two girls approached. "Hello, my name is Davonte, but you can call me Von. Who's the cutie?" He said sweetly.

"Her name is Dylan. I'm Rachel and this is Quinn, we're her parents." Rachel said, smiling warmly at the handsome and obviously gentle man. He looked to be about twenty-four and his eyes were filled with kindness. She immediately liked him.

"Girl, y'all look a little young." He said.

"Sixteen." Quinn said nonchalantly.

Von looked confused. "I'm lost, sweetie."

"I'm different." Was all Quinn said, but Von caught on easily enough. He suddenly pulled both girls into a hug. He smelled like strawberries and perfume.

"We don't judge here, girl. You're beautiful. You both are. And you have a beautiful family. Besides, you can get it. If I weren't into men, mmph!" He said, bumping Rachel's hip with his own. He held out his arms. "May I? I always bond a little with them so they'll be comfortable."

Rachel handed Dylan to Von. She immediately warmed up to him. He awed loudly when she smiled at him with her dimpled, toothless smile. "I be seeing a lot of cute babies, but she's the cutest. Now, what can I do for y'all? A little off the top?" He asked as he gently settled her into the chair and tied the smock over her tiny body. Dylan was giggling, but she stayed relatively still.

"A trim." They said in unison. He laughed heartily.

"Prepare to be amazed." He stated as he got to work, humming what sounded like Drunk in Love to himself.

Ten minutes later, he set down his scissors and dramatically placed a hand over his heart. "Lord have mercy, I think this is my best work. Can I take a picture and put it on insta? The store has a page I mean. We're in a competition with Master Cuts and Super Cuts."

At Rachel and Quinn's nod, he took out his Galaxy and snapped a quick picture. He set it on the counter before squirting a blue substance in his hands and rubbing it in Dylan's hair. He unhooked the smock and stepped to the side, bowing.

Quinn had to admit. The man knew how to do hair. Dylan looked amazing. Her hair was neatly trimmed, falling just above her dark brows in loose curls. "Wow, I'm impressed." Quinn said, picking her daughter up as Rachel dug through her purse for cash.

"How much?"

Von's dark eyes sparkled as he threw the smock over his shoulder. "It's on the house for having such a cute little lady."

"Oh no-" Rachel began, but he waved his hand.

"Girl, I don't know where you from, but when somebody says something is free, I take it and get on with my life. Come back now you hear? Don't go nowhere else, 'cause I have have eyes everywhere and I'm going to know."

"Oh, we will. Thank you." Quinn said.

Von gave them one last friendly hug before they exited the store. Rachel slipped her hand around Quinn's waist as the blonde cradled Dylan to her chest. Quinn kissed the top of her head. "You hungry? I know a vegan restaurant on the third floor," Quinn offered.

Rachel just nodded in content, leaning up on her tippy toes to return Quinn's affection. She ran her hands softly through Dylan's newly trimmed locks as they stood on the escalator. The little things Quinn did and remembered went a long way with her. Finn could never remember she was a vegan, so she suffered through all of those dates at Breadstix to please him.

She was very much looking forward to something new, especially if it involved Quinn Fabray.

K/C-42

There's a second part to this chapter, don't worry, it's not over yet. It should be up sometime tomorrow. More Q/R goodness coming up, as well as B/S and F/D. Plus, Dylan meets Future best-friend. R&R - K/C


	16. The Snow Child

Eventually growing bored of the mall's festivities, Dylan laid her down on Quinn's shoulder, eyes flicking disinterestedly about. After a few hours roaming the shopping centers, Rachel began complaining about sore feet. Ignoring Quinn's knowing smile, she gracefully descended upon a vacant bench in the center of the mall, crossing her legs and sighing in relief.

They were sitting in front of a playpen filled with babies and small children consumed in intense play as they spoke in broken English and gibberish to one another. Dylan looked on disinterestedly. She was perfectly content sitting in her mother's strong and gentle embrace. She loved to be carried around by Quinn. Whereas Rachel's embrace was soft and delicate, Quinn's was stronger, more muscled. Not to mention it was easier to look about with Quinn's greater height.

Quinn and Rachel were conversing quietly when Dylan suddenly began to fidget, whining in discomfort and trying to escape Quinn's protective hold. "Do you want to play with the other kids?" Rachel asked as she scooped her up and walked over to the edge of the playpen. Using Dylan's high-pitched chirp as comfirmation, she gently walked over to an empty space and set her there.

She mentally clapped in excitement. According to the employees and volunteers at her daycare center, she was a very unsocial child, choosing to play with her toys as far away from the other children as possible or insisting on being carried around by one of the employees. Rachel hoped Dylan would eventually grow out of her preferred isolation and warm up to the other kids, and seeing her so eager to do so warmed her heart.

However, Dylan wasn't interested in the others. She seemed like she could care less about them. She carefully maneuvered herself towards the object of her interest, which was a small child not much older than herself sitting alone in the corner of the playpen, idly fiddling with multi-colored building blocks. The other children made sure to steer clear of the child, and it was clear why.

The child's skin was unearthly pale, borderline stark white. Her hair was just as pale, nearly the color of freshly fallen snow, but had a slight golden tinge to it. Her eye lashes were long and blonde, her eyes such a pale blue, one might assume she were sightless, appearing red or violet on first glance.

Rachel did a disease report in her biology class on albinism in freshman year, but she'd never seen it before, until now. Rachel could just make out the sharp features of a Native American background, and despite the child's abnormal appearance, Rachel found her absolutely stunning, and one day she'd be beautiful.

Dylan made a small noise, holding out her hands towards the older child, who looked up from her blocks curiously. She hesitated for a moment before touching Dylan's smaller hands with her own, mimicking Dylan's conversational noises. They did this for a while, speaking in baby tongues to one another before Dylan bursted out in hysterical giggles, drawing the attention of the other children and a few parents who commented on her cuteness.

"Is she yours?" A low voice asked curiously from behind Rachel. Rachel turned around and was met with a woman who obviously had to be the parent of the pale child. She shared the same, abnormally pale skin tone but hers had a slight tan. Her hair was pale blonde and fell to her mid-back, kind pale eyes glimmering with warmth. She too had Native American features, but hers were more defined with her adulthood. Rachel nodded politely at the woman.

She smiled. "Your daughter is the first to not be intimidated by Scar. None dare come close to her."

Rachel felt her heart break a little in her chest. "Is it because off..." She trailed off, fearing her question would offend the woman, despite it being obvious, but she held no malice in her beautiful features.

The woman nodded. "My 'disease' has been a curse for me since my birth. I had hoped Scar would be spared from it, but the gene is strong."

"But she is unique, she is a very beautiful child." Rachel said heartedly.

"I wish my tribe shared your optimism. They believe we are cursed, touched by them. We have been exiled. I was spared from exile while my mother lived, but she died when I came of age. My father is chief, and he wished for me to marry the daughter of a chief from another tribe, to unite us and bring strength to our tribes. But when Scar was born with the curse, he called it off and Scar's mother abandoned us." She explained sadly.

"Cursed?" Rachel echoed, "How so?"

"Sun hair and eyes like sky are features of the white man who burned our village long ago. When our warriors killed them in the Great War, they say their spirits stayed in this world and 'cursed,' us."

"But it was so long ago." Rachel argued.

"Yes, but spirits are immortal. Your kin gives us hope." She said genuinely, eliciting and blush from Rachel.

"I am Sky. It is an honor." She said, holding out her hand. She gently grasped Rachel's forearm in her traditional greeting just as Quinn approached them, curiosity flickering in her hazel eyes.

"Oh Quinn, this is Sky. She's Dylan's new friend's mother." Rachel said.

"It's a pleasure." Sky said earnestly, though her eyes flickered to Quinn's blonde hair hesitantly. "Though in my tribe, despite my gender, I am her father because I am the giver and her mother is the taker."

"Likewise." Quinn said, contemplating on asking a few questions about her tribe, but decided against it.

"I see you in her. I assume she is also yours?" Sky asked after a moment of watching their kids interact.

Quinn nodded.

"Forgive my assumptions, but you both do not look of age." Sky pointed out.

"We aren't." Was all Quinn said, but Sky simply hummed in understanding.

Sky told them she was training to be a cop and that she needed someone to keep an eye on Scar. Quinn told her about the place where they took Dylan for Daycare. Sky was so relieved. She needed money to support her only child and the center would be perfect. After a long time conversing with the young parents and watching little Dylan and Scar play, she walked over to her daughter and pulled her into her arms.

Dylan held out her arms to be picked up as well. She liked Sky because she looked like her new friend. Sky smiled warmly as she stroked Dylan's hair. Rachel lifted Dylan into her own arms as they prepared for goodbyes, much to the children's dismay. Sensing her daughter was close to sobbing, Sky began to hum a lullaby in her Native tongue.

"I will see you at the daycare, yes?" She asked after a few moments. "Do not worry, my love. You will see her soon."

Scar, still on the verge of tears whined as her father waved goodbye and began walking away from her new friend. Dylan didn't' cry, but she whined in protest as she laid her head on Rachel's shoulder.

She liked the little girl who looked like the things that fell from the sky on cold days. She didn't try to chew on her toys or slobber on her clothes. She wasn't noisy and annoying like the others.

"She made her first friend!" Rachel said excitedly, nearly squeezing the life out of her daughter.

Quinn's expression was neutral, but she was literally jumping with joy on the inside.

K/C-42

Ugh, I'm going to have to do multi-part chapters because I write on my phone and it's aggravating to do very long chapters like I want. I'd do it on my computer, but it's currently lying in scattered pieces around my feet after a Battlefield 4 match gone wrong.


	17. That good huh?

_Stirring from an alcohol induced slumber, she stretched leisurely. Head pounding, limbs sore and stiff from the odd position in which she slept. She rubbed her face, greenish eyes finally drawing open after ample coaxing. She realized she wasn't in her room, probably wasn't even in her own house._

_There are posters of multiple bands sticking to the cream walls. Escape the Fate, Panic at the Disco, Falling in Reverse, all bands she's heard of but never taken the time to listen too, and certainly hadn't taken the time to hang them up on her walls._

_She sat up with difficulty, pushing back her mass of long blonde hair away from her face. She figured she was naked by the way the silk sheets stuck to her skin, and the uncomfortable latex wrapped around her groin. She knew she wasn't alone either; judging from the groans of the bed's other occupant._

_She sighed to herself as she tossed the condom into a nearby trash bin, mentally patting herself on the back for remembering to put one on, then slapping herself for having sex with some random stranger. She didn't do that often._

_She didn't even like parties, or people in general. She and her team had been invited by one of her good friends. She didn't plan on drinking, dancing with some girl, and leading her up the spiral staircase into one of the vacant rooms and having sex with her._

_She couldn't see the girl's face because it was obscured by her brown hair. She didn't really want to see it anyway. She tossed the covers away from her body and began searching for her clothes. The house was quiet; a grave contradiction to what it had been last night. She remembered hearing the music two blocks away when she was driving up._

_She found her bra and her shirt piled up by the door. Her boxers at the foot of the bed, jeans tangled within the sheets. She dressed slowly, her body not yet recovered from the obvious rough sex it endured the night before. She peeked over her shoulder. Angry red scratch marks trailed down her toned back, bruises painted her collarbone with faint shades of yellow, red, and purple._

_That good huh?_ _She weakly reprimanded herself, tying her hair into a messy topknot in an effort to make herself look more presentable. As she was putting on her shoes, the mystery girl began to stir once more._

_She hadn't got off easy either from last night's sexcapade, judging by her groans of discomfort. The sheets fluttered noisily as the girl bolted up right, using the sheets to preserve her modesty. She winced at the pain and soreness that seemed to make itself known all over her body, but mostly in her lower region._

_She froze, brown eyes widening in disbelief and horror._

_She just lost her virginity. To some stranger, a girl nonetheless! Her boyfriend wouldn't like this one bit._

_"This can't be happening. This isn't real. Who the hell are you?" She demanded furiously._

_The blonde stiffened. She recognized that voice anywhere. She rubbed her face tiredly. This girl would never let her live it down. The girls she slept with previously respected her space, never approaching her directly or even speaking of the matter after the ordeal. She hadn't slept with a lot of girls, maybe two or three, all the results of drinking at a party. These things always seemed to happen whilst intoxicated._

_She briefly turned her head over her shoulder to give the cheerleader a glimpse of her face. "Must you be so loud?" She asked gently, her voice barely above a whisper. She was tired. She wanted to go home, curl up in her own bed, and sleep until she was due for afternoon weekend practice. Winning don't come cheap._

_Before she could reply, the door creaked open._

_"Whoa, I'm sorry." The owner of the house spluttered, averting her eyes. She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "But, you guys have to go, got to clean the place before my mom comes home."_

_She smiled suggestively at Quinn before closing the door back. Quinn rolled her eyes. She'd never hear the end of it, especially if her sister's girlfriend got ahold of the information._

_Rachel Berry. She slept with Rachel fucking Berry. The girl had been the bane of her existence since middle school, constantly parading about like she owned the place. It got worse during freshman year, when the coach of one of the most elite cheerleading squads in the nation make her head cheerleader. She liked fiery attitude and her 'woe is me,' personality. She kicked the previous head cheerleader to the curb like a dead beat boyfriend. No one's heard of her since._

_The girl had a boyfriend too. Not just any boyfriend neither. He was like the school's very own Austin Mahone or Justin Bieber to the girls who attended McKinley. Quarterback to the football team, relatively handsome, not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was nice enough._

_She handed the girl her bra as she stood up. "I thought you might need this."_

_Luckily she was out of the room before the book Rachel had picked up to toss at her could actually hit her._

_Shit, she was sore. She could feel it in her back and neck the most. That girl could certainly go at it. Maybe she wasn't as prudish as Quinn thought. Certainly no virgin could leave her body feeling the way it did? She walked down the stairs, stepping over rousing teenage bodies and beer bottles strewn all over the place._

_"You're just going to ignore this?" Rachel fumed as she followed Quinn down the stairs. Damn, she dressed quick._

_"What do you want me to do?" Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you have a boyfriend? I'm sure Finny would love to know you slept with his worst enemy."_

_It was true. Finn hated Quinn. Perhaps it was because she was captain of the far more successful girls' Varsity basketball team? They'd been on a winning streak since Quinn joined freshman year, while the football team hadn't won a game since Jesus rose from the dead._

_Rachel maneuvered herself so she was standing in front of the tall, athletic blonde. Quinn got a good look at her. Bruised neck, hickeys all over her collarbone, swollen lips, and the very noticeable limp in her stride._

_It had been that good._

_"I had a plan," She fumed, "No sex until I was twenty-five and married! I had a promise ring for crying out loud! Do you have any idea what this means?"_

_"…you broke a promise?"_

_"One day I will be a successful Broadway superstar! And what will they think if they found out I was having sex in high school! What if you got me pregnant?" She whispered the last part, thrusting her fists into Quinn's chest for good measure._

_"Calm down, Berry." Quinn chided, "I used a condom."_

_"Condoms aren't 100 percent effective!"_

_Quinn sighed. "You're okay, Rachel. I don't even know if I can get you pregnant."_

_Rachel crossed her arms over her chest, with a pout that would have been cute if she hadn't been trying to murder Quinn with her venomous glare. She straightened up and lifted her chin, looking every bit like the head cheerleader she was._

_"I propose a solution to this…incident. We never speak of it. Ever." She said pointedly._

_Quinn shrugged. That was alright with her. "You have yourself a deal, Berry."_

_Slinging the body of her best friend she spotted on the floor by the couch over her shoulder despite her overall soreness, she followed the little brunette out of the door, feeling the corners of her lips quirk up into an amused smirk at the limp in Rachel's determined stride._

_Oh yeah. It was that good._

K/C-42

Turned out Quinn could impregnate women because Rachel found out she was pregnant a few weeks later. And nine and half months later, their little princess had been born. Dylan had been and still was, so very perfect.

"What are you thinking about?" Quinn asked from the passenger's seat as they made their way home from the North Lima mall. They'd ended up staying up until the mall began to close. It closed early Mondays, around seven thirty for maintenance. Dylan played with her new toy Rachel bought her, a vintage bomber plane affectionately nicknamed _Lucky Lucy_. The kid had been overjoyed when Rachel handed it to her. She loved planes, specifically planes of war.

"Dallas's party," She said softly, earning a playful grin from the older blonde.

"I remember it too."

They sat in a comfortable silence, listening to Sam Smith's "Stay with Me," as it played on the radio.

"Remember when Dallas first saw Frannie and she went over there and started flirting with her?" Rachel said, chuckling.

"Yes, and Frannie threw her water in her face, and she went upstairs to change clothes and picked up right where she left off."

Giggling, Rachel nodded. "And Brittany had been playing Strip Poker with the hockey team and Santana punched all of them when she found out."

"She dragged Rick the Stick halfway across the neighborhood and tossed him into a trash can like he was left over food. And no one stopped her." Quinn said.

"Everyone had been too scared! Brittany came out of the house in only a bra and underwear saying, _'stop the violence_.'"

They spent the rest of the ride home reminiscing about the party, that had been awarded as Party of the Year, nearly reaching_ Project X_'s status as one of the most fun and unbelievable bashes Little Lima, Ohio had ever seen. Dallas became insanely popular, more popular than she had already been.

_"And that's how we do it in the south!"_ She'd say.

Rachel parked her Mercedes in Quinn's driveway. She shut the car off and came around back to retrieve Dylan. She undid her car seat straps and lifted her into her arms. They walked into the house, and were greeted by something neither was expecting.

Dylan gasped, staring down at the excited little puppy bouncing around Quinn's Airforce Ones, its bobbed tail wagging fiercely from side to side. Rachel awed loudly as Quinn stared blankly at the little ball of energy.

"I didn't know you got a puppy." Rachel said as she bent down, scratching its head affectionately.

"Neither did I." Quinn said, assuming this was her middle sister's doing. Brittany use to always bring home stray cats and dogs she found on the streets when they were younger.

This little puppy had on an expensive looking collar. It was made of light blue leather and suede material, and had a steel metal buckle with the letter 'f' written in beautiful calligraphy in the center.

"She's mine. Dallas gave her to me for my birthday." Frannie said as she clambered down the stairs, carrying a small bag of dog food in her hands. The puppy quickly abandoned the little family upon seeing her mistress, stumbling about on chubby, uncoordinated paws. She ran smack into Frannie's ankle.

Dylan pointed at the puppy as she demanded to be released from her mother's embrace. Quinn smiled. That was her girl, practically fearless. Rachel sat the kid gently on the carpet, keeping her hands protectively on her shoulders in case the puppy became a little too rough.

The clumsy dog ran back over to the little family, her body buzzing with excitement. She walked over to the child curiously, sticking her nose out a few inches away and sniffing around curiously. Dylan hummed in her baby tongue, sticking her chubby fingers as far as she could reach as she tried to embrace the dog.

The puppy tumbled forward into the baby's arms, kissing the kid's face furiously, and nuzzling her head beneath the kid's chin. "She's such a sweetheart." Rachel gushed as she took out her phone and began recording. This was a moment she didn't want to miss.

"She is. Her name is Chop." Frannie huffed as she set the puppy's bowls in the corner of the kitchen, filling them up with food and water.

Quinn chuckled. "Didn't know you played _Grand Theft Auto_."

"I didn't. Dallas named her and I thought it was cute so I kept it."

Chop didn't seem to mind Dylan's constant pulling on her floppy ears or trying to squeeze the life out of her. She was entirely submissive, rolling onto her back and letting the kid have her way with her. She liked the smell of the pudgy little human, and she had her mistress's scent on her.

Frannie hoped her mother wouldn't be opposed to the idea of having a pet, especially one that would constantly grow and become quite big.

"So what are you going to do today? You're officially eighteen now." Quinn said as she and Rachel sat on the sofa, fondly watching the two little beings tussle with each other.

"Being eighteen isn't all that great. I'm only half an adult. The real fun begins when you're twenty-one." Frannie said, amused.

"That's not true. You can go and get all kinds of tattoos and piercings and mom can't really do anything about it." Quinn offered.

"She can kick me out, moron." Frannie said, slapping the back of her youngest sister's head softly.

"You know mom wouldn't do that. She isn't like dad." Quinn said quietly.

Frannie sighed. When he had been around, Russell had been overbearing. He hated tattoos, piercings, blacks, Mexicans, Obama, and probably puppies too. He'd been a rude, arrogant bastard, that one. Judy had been a housewife to him. He'd been a stockbroker, a very important one at that.  
>As soon as he left, their mother broke the chains that bound her as a second class citizen to him and became a doctor. She was head of her medical field, well respected by all who worked for her, near her, and all of her patients adored her. She never acted the way he did. She liked all people, tattoos and piercings and all.<p>

"You just want me to give her a heart attack." Frannie joked.

Dylan fell asleep cuddled against her auntie's puppy. Chop looked squished against her tiny body, but she too was knocked out cold, using Dylan's head as a pillow. Rachel extracted her daughter from her friend's puppy and carried her upstairs to her room. Frannie held a whining Chop to her chest as she lay down on the couch and replaced the child as a cuddle buddy.

Chop seemed content, falling back asleep instantly.

Frannie switched on the TV and began watching the Kardashians while Quinn followed the brunette and her kid upstairs. Rachel changed Dylan out of her dress and into a light blue onesie with little jelly donuts on them. She laid her daughter down in the crib, watching fondly as her little face scrunched up in slumber.

Quinn came up behind her kissed the top of her head before kissing her thumb and running it gently over Dylan's forehead. They watched their little princess sleep peacefully for long moments before Quinn cleared her throat.

"I um…" She paused, "Would you want to go out with me? Like on a date?"

Feeling her heart swell up with joy, Rachel smiled widely. "I would love too."

Quinn pulled the smaller girl into her chest, bending her neck so she could rest her cheek atop of her head.

"As long as it's not to a basketball game."

"Oh darn."

K/C-42

_** ClearlYMisunderstood23**_- Microsoft, all day. **_#ProudXboxOneowner_**. Lol. Any date ideas? Leave it up to me and they'll be at gamestop or at Buffalo Wild Wings watching a basketball game.

** _Shadowcub_-** Short for Scarlett, lol. Sorry if I didn't mention it.


	18. Cleveland Weekend

Quinn had the perfect place in mind to take Rachel for their date. The annual Ohio carnival was currently up and running on the edge of Cleveland, about an hours drive from Lima. Her mother used to take her and her sisters all the time when they were younger, but hadn't been since Quinn was nine. School, work, and sports had gotten in the way.

She already purchased tickets from one of the vendors in the mall, and wanted to keep the location of their date a surprise. She felt the beginnings of a smile tug on the corners of her lips, leaning back in her seat and stretching her arms comfortably above her head. Her shoulder didn't hurt much anymore, but it did pop when she extended it to a certain degree.

She did some research and was ecstatic to find the carnival had a plethora of vegan eateries scattered across the park. She had been worried Rachel wouldn't be able to eat any of the delicious carnival food, but this discovery boosted her already high level of confidence that Rachel would love the carnival.

She walked around with an obvious spring in her step, and her teammates noticed. They'd been very tempted to question what had gotten their normally stoic and slightly broody captain so animated, but they knew the blonde wouldn't tell them and simply assumed she got laid.

It didn't take Santana long to figure out why Quinn and Rachel seemed to be on cloud nine. She'd always been very observant. Nothing got past her watchful eyes. She spent the entire morning pestering Quinn about the location of their date, and threatening to set Quinn's shoe collection on fire if it was too a basketball game or involving something of the sorts.

Quinn promised it wasn't and Santana relented a bit, but still constantly reminding Quinn to use protection just in case things got heated. She even took it upon herself to store a box of condoms in Quinn's bag while she'd been showering.

Her mother had been overjoyed when she found out about the date. She had pulled Quinn into a fierce embrace while spewing heavy doses of approbation. She had always wanted her daughter and the little brunette to get along for the sake of their child and hearing from Santana they were practically dating had gone better than she hoped.

Quinn ran a hand through her silken blonde locks as she sat in her math class, occasionally glancing at the clock and wishing the school day would just be over already. She was buzzing with anticipation for tonight's events.

K/C-42

Rachel sighed for the umpteenth time as Finn approached her. He had been constantly following her around most of the day, begging her to talk to him, but she was committed to avoiding him like a plague.

However, at this moment, he seemed angry opposed to the sorrowful and guilty expressions he adorned most of the day.

"What the hell, Rachel!" He began, "You broke up with me for her?"

Rachel slammed her locker door shut, startling the students lingering in the hallway. They quickly made themselves scarce, not wanting to witness the obviously heated argument between their quarterback and their head cheerleader.

Rachel was furious. The nerve of this boy! "No, Finn. I broke up with you because you're a selfish, hateful, ignorant, little boy." She snapped.

Finn opened his mouth to reply, but Rachel was having none of it. "Firstly, you called my daughter, my child, Finn, a bastard! I understand you were upset and angry that I cheated on you, but you have no right, no fucking right to speak of her in that way."

Upon hearing the curse slip from his ex's lips like poison on a silver dagger, Finn knew he had crossed the line. Rachel never cursed, not even when she was severely frustrated or hurt, and hearing it directed at him made him instinctively take a step back.

"Secondly, let me make this clear, little boy. Just because I am head cheerleader and you're the 'star' quarterback doesn't mean I have some sort of obligation to be with you because I don't. I can date whoever I please." Rachel spat, advancing on him like a predator did its prey. He gulped loudly.

"Lastly, we are done, Finn. Done. Delete my number. Erase of all our pictures. Remove me as your wallpaper on your phone. Do not speak to me. Do not speak to my fathers. Do not approach me, and for goodness sakes, stop poking me on Facebook!" She warned, turning on her heel and storming out of the hallway.

Finn watched the love of his life walk away from him. He clenched his fists together as tears of anger and frustration welled up in his dark eyes. He couldn't help but believe Rachel belonged to him. She belonged with him, not some ball playing half-bitch with a bad attitude! He turned down the hallway, kicking a defenseless trashcan over in his angry stupor and ignoring the looks of fear the students shot their quarterback as he stalked away.

K/C-42

Rachel found Quinn in the gym during lunch. The loud, rhythmic bouncing of a basketball echoing throughout the empty building. Quinn was standing at the freethrow line, dribbling the ball with her right hand, her brows furrowed in concentration.

She took a deep breath, rolling the ball in her hands as she prepared to shoot. She raised the ball over her shoulder and took a shot.

The ball clanked loudly off the rim as she gripped her shoulder in mild discomfort. Even though most of the pain had recided, it was still too early to resume her activities. She knew that already, but she couldn't help but try. She let the ball roll away as she spotted the brunette approaching from the back door.

"Hey, Quinn." She greeted warmly, stepping into the blonde's outstretched arms. she kissed the blonde's throat gently, encircling her lean torso with her arms. Quinn's scent was just so addicting, fresh and clean. She didn't use nearly as much Axe as Finn did, nor did she smell like stale clothing and dirty socks.

"What's wrong?" Quinn asked quietly, sensing something was bothering the brunette.

Rachel sighed. "Finn's just being his usual self-centered self. He approached me today while I was sorting through my locker. I told him we were through. He was none too pleased."

"I take it he found out that we're going on a date?" the blonde said, rubbing her back soothingly. Come to think of it, Finn had been giving Quinn hateful glares every time he encountered her in the busy hallway, but that was something he always did. Quinn could honestly care less. The boy could hate her all he wanted. Whatever his deal was wasn't her problem.

They stayed bundle up a little while longer before Rachel broke the silence. "So, where are you taking me?"

"It's a surprise." Quinn replied cheekily, grinning as the brunette's lips formed into a pout.

"At least give me a hint." Rachel pressed.

"It's on Earth."

"Quinn!"

Quinn laughed quietly. Her hazel eyes were sparkling with adoration as Rachel glared at her. She kissed her on the forehead, letting her hands travel so they rested on the brunette's lower back as she pulled Rachel's body flush against herself. Rachel steadied herself by putting her hands on Quinn's chest. She felt a furious blush coating her cheeks and the tips of her ears burning.

She was already smitten.

K/C-42

Quinn told her to wear something casual and that she'd pick her up around six. It was only four-thirty and Rachel had yet to decide on an outfit. She rummaged through her closet, her head bobbing along to the beat of Trey Songz's _Na Na._ She pulled out a few pairs of jeans, multiple sheer blouses and shirts, and a few pairs of shoes.

_Heels weren't very casual were they?_ She bit her lip, pulling out her impressive collection of brand name sneakers. She knew Quinn had an affinity for shoes and she wanted to impress her. She decided on a pair of Air Jordan VI Retros.

Now that she knew what shoes she was going to where, it made looking for an outfit much easier. A pair of white-washed blue skinny jeans and a sheer blouse would complete her casual look. When she glanced at the clock, the red numbers showed it to be 5:10. She showered and dressed quickly, curling her brown locks to perfection and applying a very light dosage of makeup.

When she was finished she admired herself in the mirror. Perfect, she thought. She was pulling on her shoes when her father's loud voice sounded from downstairs.

"Rachel, Quinn's here!"

With one last glance in her full length mirror, she tied her shoes and bounced out of her bedroom, her body buzzing with excitement. Clambering down the stairs two at a time and practically leaping over the couch, she took a moment to compose herself before opening the door.

Quinn stood on the bottom of the steps, her leg bouncing up and down almost nervously. Rachel's eyes found themselves locked onto her hair.

"You cut your hair."

Quinn ran a through her now shortened locks nervously. They were still slightly damp from her shower, making them appear darker and more silky. They were now shoulder length, and held a natural curl to them, especially around the ends. Her bangs were swept to the side, giving her a rocker type look. Rachel didn't think Quinn could get more attractive. Her buttoned red flannel, ripped black skinny jeans, and varsity red and black concords made her look especially mouth-watering.

"Yeah." She said.

Rachel sensed Quinn's slight discomfort and stepped forward. She ran her fingers through her hair almost lovingly. "I love it."

Quinn's eyes lit up like fireworks on the fourth of July. She smiled and offered the brunette her arm. Rachel waved to her father, who barely glanced her way. His eyes were locked onto the television, where his precious Jets were getting blown out of the stadium. Quinn walked Rachel to her car, opening the passenger's seat for the brunette.

"Oh, one more thing." Quinn said once they were buckled up. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a red cloth. "Put this over your eyes."

"Really?" Rachel said, amused, reaching over and tying the bandana around her eyes.

Quinn just leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

K/C-42

About an hour and ten minutes later, Quinn pulled into an empty parking space at the rather crowded Ohio Carnival, nicknamed Cleveland Weekend even though it was only Tuesday. She quickly walked over the the passenger's side and let Rachel out of the car.

"Can I take this off yet?" Rachel whined. She could hear the loud, joyous shouts of small children and rambunctious teenagers. The smell of hundreds of different foods wafted in the chilly, afternoon air. Quinn stood behind her, undoing the knot of the bandana. Rachel gasped.

The first thing she saw was a huge Ferris Wheel, stark white with thousands of little lights surrounding its massive form. A few smaller Ferris wheels stood behind it, but none matched its impressive height. Mini roller-coasters, kiddie rides, bumper cars, games were alive with eager participants. A group of men, of all colors and shapes stood around a mini basketball court, their woman standing nearby with unimpressed looks.

Tiny children sitting on their father's shoulders, mothers carrying infants, groups of teenage girls flirting with teenage boys, old timers sitting on benches looking upon the younger generations with wistful expressions. The atmosphere was joyous and inviting, warm and promised a great time. She clenched Quinn's fingers between her own, tugging the blonde towards the gate.

"Tickets please." An old black man with graying hair and wrinkled features asked politely. Quinn pulled the small slips of admission from her back pocket and handed them over. He stamped them, returning the tickets to the two girls with a warm smile. "Have fun."

"This is amazing." Rachel breathed, her eyes sparkling under the carnival's bright lights.

"Let's go!" Quinn said, dragging the brunette further into the park like an excited child.

K/C-42

"Just taste it! It's so good!" Rachel practically moaned, licking her vegan ice-cream cone. She held it in front of a hesitant Quinn's face.

"Um, no. I'm alright." Quinn said, chuckling as she licked her own strawberry waffle-cone.

"You don't know what you're missing." Rachel replied.

Quinn suddenly leaned down, using her right hand to hold Rachel's chin in place as she pressed a slow, deep kiss to the brunette's pouty red lips. Rachel nearly dropped her ice-cream. Quinn pulled back after a few seconds. "Not bad." She said, licking her lips.

Rachel blushed furiously.

"Step on over," A scrawny, pimpled teenage boy cried out, gesturing to a game where a couple of basketball courts stood. "One shot, win any prize! Care to try?" He said, holding out a worn Spalding ball.

Quinn stepped forward, finishing her ice-cream and wiping her hands with a small napkin. She handed the boy a few game tickets she purchased earlier. "How many shots?" He inquired.

"Three."

If she'd never been injured she would've just chosen one. She eyed the prize in mind, a huge, one eyed, stuffed Minion from Despicable Me. Rachel smiled, stepping back and giving Quinn some room. The tall blonde bounced the ball a few times, gripping the worn leather in between her slender fingers.

She slowly lifted the ball over her head and released it.

She pursed her lips as the ball bounced off of the rim. The boy reached over and tossed it back to her as Quinn flexed her healing limb.

She repeated the motion and found the same result. "One more shot, ma'am!" The boy cried.

Quinn's a face-up, stop and pop shooter. Her jump-shot was quick and fluid, smooth as silk and deadly accurate. It was what made her such a dangerous shooter. She couldn't pull her arm back at the same speed she usually did. Her free-throw shooting was the same; slingshot quick, deadly accurate.

She twirled the ball in her hands once more, spinning the ball on her middle finger as she lined up her shot, eyes twinkling with challenge.

_Float like a Cadillac, sting like a bee,_ she thought to herself.

She smiled as the swishing of the silk net sounded above the carnival noise. _Kobe._ She thought again, flicking her wrist with an amused expression.

"Congrats! Pick a prize, any prize." The boy said.

Quinn gestured toward the giant minion. He unhooked it from the rack and handed it to the blonde, who in turn handed it to her date. Rachel leaned up on her toes and kissed her on the cheek, cuddling him to her chest. "Aww, thank you." She swooned.

Quinn just smiled.

K/C-42

Rachel's musical laughter sent streams of warmth through Quinn's body as they wandered the park, Rachel's minion hanging from her finger and Quinn's arms wrapped around her shoulder.

"And you don't participate in these activities?" She teased.

"I'm the mastermind behind it all." Quinn said with mock arrogance. She was telling Rachel about the many pranks her teammates played on the other sports teams, the freshman, and each other. "I only give them ideas. I don't like to get my hands dirty."

Rachel rolled her eyes playfully. "You gave them the idea to hang Ms. Cavanaugh's wig on the flagpole during the pep-rally?"

"Okay not that one. But I may or may not have spurred the idea to put fake roaches in the girl's locker room." She admitted.

"Oh my god, that was you?!" Rachel gasped, thumping the blonde's shoulder with her minionless arm as she recalled the terrifying ordeal.

Quinn laughed. "I didn't participate! I didn't think they would really do it!"

"Do you know how traumatizing that was for us? We didn't shower in there for weeks!" Rachel said.

Nearly doubling over in laughter, Quinn wiped her eyes. "I've never seen girls run that fast before. Seriously, you should consider running Track. Hurdles and all with they way you all leaped over the shorter students."

Rachel joined in on her laughter as she leaned against the blonde. "I hate roaches. They're so horrifying." Rachel mumbled.

Quinn smiled once she caught her breath. "You know I'll protect you from those evil roaches."

Rachel looked up at her with utter happiness in her eyes. She leaned in for a kiss, tangling her hands in her date's curly blonde locks, inhaling her unique scent. Quinn placed her hands on her hips, biting on her lips, rubbing circles in her soft flesh.

Out of all the girls she's kissed, Rachel was the best.

She loved the way the tiny girl fit into her body, how her hair smelled, the way she laughed. She honestly loved it. This girl was capable of making her feel like she's not just a talented basketball player. She made her feel like those silly love-sick teenage girls she'd made fun of in the past.

She knew she wanted this girl to be hers. She leaned back and cleared her throat, staring into intense brown hues. She suddenly felt nervous and she shook her head slightly. She's Quinn Fabray, she doesn't get nervous. She took a deep breath.

"I know this is sudden, but I really like you and I...Um, will you…" Quinn stammered, feeling a blush crawl up her cheeks. Oh boy, she was grateful her teammates and Santana were as far away as possible from her at this very moment.

Rachel jumped into her arms. "Yes, I will be your girlfriend!"

Quinn sighed in relief, grateful for the save as she lifted the brunette off of the ground in a tremendous hug. She let her down after a few long moments. Rachel smirked up at her. "Does this mean that I'm off-limits to your team's pranks?"

Quinn kissed her new girlfriend on her forehead.

"Trust me babe, no one's safe. Not even me."

K/C-42

_Next on 42…_

_Santana frantically looked around for her niece. She didn't understand how one second the kid was posted on the couch playing with her toys, and the next moment she was gone! She wished Brittany hadn't abandoned her in favor of a quick shower, or that Frannie ran off with Dallas to make out in her car. She looked at the leggy puppy watching her from under the table._

_Of-fucking-course the child of Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry couldn't be fucking normal._

_McKinley's new power-couple take the school by storm, and a certain football player is furious._

_Pondering thoughts about life after high-school, Quinn's rehab begins. And the plot thickens. You'll hate me in a few chapters._


End file.
